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THE. AUTHOR, 



The Truth About Ireland 



OR 



Through the Emerald Isle With 
an Aeroplane, 



BY 



ALEXANDER CORKEY 

AUTHOR OF 
"The Victory of Allan Rutledge— A Tale of the Middle West." 



WITH AN INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER 

SHOWING THE 

BRIGHT FUTURE OF IRELAND 

BY 

HON. WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN, 



Published by Shockley Bros. & Cook. Oskaloosa, Iowa. 

Published in London, England, by Richard J. James, Publisher, 
London House Yard, St. Paul's, E. C. 



^ 









©ClA25i)596 



DEDICATED 

TO 

MESSRS. WILBUR AND ORVILLE WRIGHT, 

INVENTORS OF THE AEROPLANE AND CONQUERORS 

OF THE AIR 



COPYRIGHT, 191 0, BY ALEXANDER CORKEY 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



Contents 



CHAPTER PAGB 

INTRODUCTORY BY HON. W. J. BRYAN - 13 

I. THE BEGINNING OF MY AEROPLANE TRIP 

THROUGH IRELAND - - - - 18 

II. FLYING OVFR KILLARNEY IN AN AIRSHIP - 26 
III. OUR EXPERIENCES IN COUNTY KERRY - - 33 

IV. A THRILLING VISIT IN CONNEMARA - - 39 

V. ALMOST A DISASTER - - - - 45 

VI. FROM WESTPOINT TO ENNISKILLEN - - 49 

VII. A DAY IN ENNISKILLEN . - - - 55 
VIII. CIRCLING OVER LONDONDERRY IN AN 

AEROPLANE 60 

IX. ALIGHTING AT THE GIANT'S CAUSEWAY - 67 

X. OUR REST ON THE ANTRIM COAST - - 73 

XI. A FLIGHT IN AN AEROPLANE WITH AN 

IRISH GIRL 80 

XII. OVER AND AROUND BELFAST - - - 87 

XIII. ALIGHTING IN DRCGHEDA - - - 93 

XIV. WITH FRIENDS IN DUBLIN - - - - 98 
XV. GUESTS IN AN IRISH HOME - - - 104 

XVI. AROUND THE CAPITAL CITY OF IRELAND - 1 1 1 
XVII. WICKLOW, THE G ARDEN OF IRELAND - 115 
XVIII. BACK AGAIN TO CORK - - - - 123 
XIX. OUR LAST DAY IN IRELAND. SEEING TIP- 
PER ARY - 127 



List of Illustrations 



FRONTISPIECE. 

THROUGH THE EMERALD ISLE WITH 
AEROPLANE, 

BLARNEY CASTLE, 

AN IRISH CABIN, 

LONDONDERRY, IRELAND, 

GIANT'S CAUSEWAY, 

DUNLUCE CASTLE, 

AN IRISH JAUNTING CAR, 

AN IRISH VILLAGE, 

"BEGORRA, IT'S A FOINE BURD," 



AN 



The Author 

Opposite Page 24 
Opposite Page 32 
Opposite Page 40 
Opposite Page 60 
Opposite Page 74 
Opposite Page 82 
Opposite Page 96 
Opposite Page 120 
Opposite Page 132 



Preface 



'T*HE aeroplane is man's latest invention. Through it man has 
become lord of the air. The steamship and steam engine 
had already given him victory over sea and land. Now he is 
complete master of the situation. 

One of the most delightful uses of the aeroplane is in sight- 
seeing. Aerial tourist travel will soon become popular, as a 
bird's-eye view of a country is the most satisfactory of all. 

For several reasons, however, many will be unable to enjoy 
this latest luxury, traveling in the body, but with the mind every- 
one who desires can enjoy in the following pages, an aeroplane 
trip through Ireland, fairest of all lands. 

This mental excursion in the aeroplane has obvious advan- 
tages over a like physical experience, as everv aeronaut will cheer- 
fully acknowledge. Future aerial travelers over Erin will be able 
to witness to the truthfulness of this bird's-eye view of Ireland, 
and I trust the historical allusions will add to the interest of our 
survey of the island's lovely scenes. The visits to Irish homes, 
and the glimpses of Irish character will also, I am sure, be enjoyed, 

I wish to thank Hon, William Jennings Bryan for the Intro- 
ductory Chapter, in which, from the viewpoint of a practical 
statesman, he shows the bright future of the Emerald Isle. The 
full account of this famous visit of his to Ireland was published 
in the Commoner, which owns the copyright. 

THE AUTHOR. 



Introductory Chapter 

SHOWING THE BRIGHT FUTURE OF IRELAND 

BY 

HON. WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN 



^^ Y visit tO' Ireland was too brief to enable me 
|\>>(fo to look into the condition of the tenants in 
JvJ the various parts of the island, but by the 
courtesy of the Lord Mayor of Dublin, Air. 
Timothy Harrington, and Mr. John Dillon, both mem- 
bers of Parliament, I met a number of the prominent 
representatives of Ireland in national politics. 

It is true that home rule has not yet been secured, 
but the contest for home rule has focused attention upon 
the industrial and political condition of Erin, and a num- 
ber of remedial measures have been adopted. 

First, the tenant was given title to his improve- 
ments and then the amount of the rent was judicially 
determined. More recently the authorities have been 
building cottages for the rural laborers. Over 15,000 
of these cottages have already been erected and arrange- 
ments are being made for some 19,000 more. These 
are much more comfortable than the former dwellings, 
and much safer from a sanitary point oi view. The 
recent Land Purchase Act, which went into effect on 



14 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

November first, (1903), seems likely to exert a very 
great influence upon the condition of the people. Ac- 
cording* to its terms the Government is to buy the land 
from the landlord and sell it tO' the tenants. 

As the Government can borrow money at a lower 
rate than the ordinary borrower, it is able to give the 
tenant much better terms than he gets from his present 
landlord, and at the same time purchase the land of the 
landlord at a price that is equitable. The landlords are 
showing a disposition to comply with the spirit of the 
law, although some of them are attempting to get a 
larger price for their land than it was worth prior to 
the passage of the law. 

The purpose of the law is to remove from politics the 
landlord question, which has been a delicate one tO' deal 
with. Most of the larger estates were given to the an- 
cestors of the present holders, and many of the owners 
live in England and collect their rents through a local 
agent. The new law makes the Government the land- 
lord ; and the tenant, by paying a certain annual sum 
for 6^ years, becomes the owner of the fee. He has the 
privilege of paying all, or any part, at any time, and can 
dispose of his interest. 

The settlement which is now being effected not only 
removes the friction which has existed between the ten- 
ant and the landlord, but puts the tenant in a position 
where he can appeal to the Government with reasonable 
certainty of redress in case unforeseen circumstances 
make his lot harder than at present anticipated. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 15 

The assurance that he will become the owner of the 
fee will give to the Irish farmer an ambition that has 
heretofore been wanting, for he will be able to save 
without fear of an increase in the rent. 

Not only is the land question in process of settle- 
ment, but there has been at the same time other im- 
provements which make for the permanent progress of 
the people. There is a constant increase in educational 
facilities, and a large number of co-operative banks have 
been established. Agricultural societies have been form- 
ed for the improvement of crops and stock, and the trend 
is distinctly upward. The Irish leaders have not obtain- 
ed all that they labored for — there is much to be secured 
before their work is complete, but when the history of 
Ireland is written, the leaders now living will be able to 
regard with justifiable pride the results of their devo'- 
tion and sacrifice and their names will be added to the 
long list of Irish patriots and statesmen. 

In Dublin I paid m.y respects to^ Lord Dudlc}^, Lieu- 
tenant Governor of Ireland, whose residence, the Vicere- 
gal Lodge, is in Phoenix Park, and found him sO' genial 
and affable a host that I am led to hope that in his ad- 
ministration of the executive branch of the Government 
he will make the same attempt at just treatment that 
parliament has made in the enactment of the recent land 
measures. 

Dublin is a very substantial looking city and much 
more ancient in appearance than Belfast, the latter re- 



16 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

minding one more of an enterprising American city. 
We did not have a chance to visit any of the industries 
of Du'bHn, and only a linen factory and a shipyard in 
Belfast, but as the linen factory, The York Street Liiien 
Mills, was one of the largest in Ireland, and the ship- 
yard, Harland and Wolff's, the largest in the world, they 
gave some idea of the industrial possibilities of the 
island. 

Queenstown, Ireland, the first town to greet the 
tourist when he reaches Northern Europe and the last 
to bid him farewell when he departs, is a quaint and in- 
teresting old place. Here the returning traveller has a 
chance to spend any change which he has left, for black- 
thorn canes and shillelahs, ''Robert Emmett" and '*Harp 
of Erin" handkerchiefs and lace collars are offered in 
abundance. At Queenstown one can hear the Irish brogue 
in all its richness and, if he takes a little jaunt ^hnut the 
tow^n, he can enjoy the humor for which the Irish are 
famed. 

To one accustomed to the farms of the Mississippi 
and the Missouri valleys, the little farms of Ireland seem 
contracted indeed, but what they lack in size they make 
up in thoroughness of cultivation. The farm houses 
are not large, but from the railroad train they looked 
neat and well kept. 

There is a general desire among the leaders of 
thonght in Ireland to check the emigration from that 
country. They feel that Ireland, under fair conditions, 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 17 



can support a much larger population than she now has. 
Ireland, they say, has been drained of many of its most 
enterprising and vigorous sons and daughters. It is 
hardly probable that the steps already taken will entirely 
check the moA'cment towards the United States, but 
there is no doubt that the inhabitants of Ireland and 
their friends across the water contemplate the future 
PVifh Brighter Hopes and Anticipations than they have 
for a centurv. 



The Truth About Ireland 



CHAPTER I 

BEGINNING OF MY AEROPLANE TRIP THROUGH IRELAND 

^W> T all happened in this way. Early last sum- 
'TJ !^ mer I was travelling through Ohio and came 
g^ ^ to the prosperous city of Dayton. While 

^^^^^^"^^^ spending a few days visiting in this enter- 
prising city, a friend met me, and proposed to call on 
the Wright Brothers, who had won wide fame as the 
men who knew how to fly. 

I was rather skeptical about a man contesting the 
atmosphere with the fowls of the air. I had a private 
opinion that Mother Earth was meant for man, and that 
the nearer he kept to it the hetter. I went to see these 
aeronauts with a prejudice against the flying business. 

We soon found the air-ship factory, and we were 
introduced to Mr. Wilbur Wright. He greeted us very 
cordially, and even took us around his factory, showing 
us an aeroplane and explaining its workings. I was 
astonished at the simplicity of the airship and was im- 
pressed with the enthusiasm of the successful young 
aeronaut. I began to thaw out. I asked a lot of ques- 
tions. Before half an hour had passed by I was a con- 
vert tO' the flying business, and made up my mind that 
Mr. Wright was a "bird." He had discovered not only 
how to fly, but also, which is more important, how to 
light. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 19 

That was the heg-inning of my interest in aero- 
planes. I do' not expect that anything- wonderful would 
have come out o^f my Dayton experience had I not jour- 
neyed the next week to New York State to visit an old- 
time friend, Mr. Mike Connor. Naturally, I began to 
display my new-found knowledge about aeronautics on 
the first opportunity. To' my great surprise I found that 
Mr. Connor was also an enthusiastic aeroplanist. I 
found he knew all about flying. When I expressed won- 
der at his knowledge of this recent art of cleaving the 
heaven's blue, he told me he had been studying the mat- 
ter for a long time. He said he could get few of his 
friends to' take any stock in this latest victory of man 
over nature, and he was delighted to find me a sympa- 
thetic listener to his descriptions of the coming uses of 
fiying machines. 

Looking carefully around the room, as if to see 
that no unfriendly ear could hear, he finally confessed to 
me in a stage whisper : 

'T have an aeroplane of my own. I bought it two 
months ago, and I can now fly with it beautifully." 

"Good," I cried, "let me see it." 

He at once took me out to the shed where he kept 
the "bird." I looked it over with intense interest, which 
pleased my good friend, Mike, (as I must call him) very 
much. It was a Wriglit aeroplane, about the same size 
as the one Mr. Wilbur Wright had shown me at Dayton. 
The two main planes, like the top and bottO'm of a 



20 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

street car, were 40 feet long, and 7 feet wide. The dis- 
tance between the upper and lower iilanes was 6 feet. 
These planes were covered with a stout cloth, like tent 
cloth. There were two small horizontal planes in front, 
controlled by le^^ers, by which the aeroplane was raised 
or lowered at will when it was in the air. At the rear 
there was also' a double set of planes, vertically placed, to^ 
assist in turning the airship, just as a helm turns a sjiip 
in tlie w^ater. Motion was generated by twO' large pro- 
pellers, seven feet long, made of spruce wood, which 
ran in opposite directions. Power was furnished by a 
compact, 25-horse power motor, wliich Alike, whf;m I 
knew^ to be an expert with g'asoline engines, said w'as 
one of the best he ever handled. 

"Just as reliable as steam," he assured me, when I 
spoke of the unreliability of the ordinary motor. 

Mike explained to me how to start, how to rise and 
descend, and how to tiu"n in the air. 

I asked him why he had not let me know about this 
new treasure before, and he told me his friends to whom 
he had spoken about it had treated him so coldly, that 
he had ceased to mention the matter, but he had quietly 
been practising with liis machine until now he was able 
to fly anywhere. There was a large meadow back of 
his house, surrounded by thick groves, and in this se- 
cluded spot he had spent weeks perfecting himself in the 
art of flvino-. 

As it was too late that day for a flight he promised 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 21 

to take me on my first jaunt among the clouds next 
morning. 

I had known Mike Connor since he was a boy. His 
father had left him a lot of money, but he was not the 
usual wild kind of heir. He looked after his estate 
closely, but, having a heap of time on his hands, he w^as 
ahvays ready for a diversion. When the bicycles first 
came out, he had two or three of the finest makes. He 
w^as the very first in his neighborhood to purchase an 
automobile, and he soon became an expert with his 
motor car. Accordingly, I was not surprised tO' know 
that he had so soon mastered the use of the aeroplane. 

AAHien we came back to the house he asked me sud- 
denly : 

"Jack, what are you going to do this summer?" 

*'I have been planning," I replied, "to take a run 
across the fish pond and visit old Ireland again." 

"Good," he fairly shouted. 

I looked at him a little curiously, wondering why 
he was so interested in my visit tO' the Emerald Isle. 

"Let us eo too-ether," he continued enthusiastically, 
"and take the aeroplane." 

This was certainly a novel proposition, and I 
laughed so heartily at the idea of flying through Ireland 
that Mike got impatient. 

"Don't you think we can do it?" he asked. 

"Let us wait till morning," I answered evasively, 
"'and we will see about it." Mike's face fell, and I 



22 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

could see he thought I was not a thorough coiivert to 
the aeroplane art. 

There is something of the Scotchman about me, and 
I wanted to know a little more about the ''bird" business 
before I started on a vacation trip with wings. An Irish 
bog would not be a bad place for an aeronaut to alight 
in case he had toi descend unceremoniously, but I didn't 
want to spoil a nice outing in Ireland by breaking my 
neck trying to fly. 

The next morning we were up with the birds and 
soon had the aeroplane all ready for a flight. The 
Wright aeroplane ascends from a "starting rail," which 
is merely a stout board turned up on end. 

The meadow was an ideal place to fly. It was an 
immense level field, about half a mile long, and quarter 
of a mile broad. I had all confidence in Mike and had 
no reason to believe he meant to destroy me, but I was 
just a little shaky as I climbed up into the second seat 
over the motor. 

Mike vaulted easily into his seat, started the motor, 
and in a few seconds we were ofT. I can never describe 
the excitement of the next ten minutes. We ro'se to the 
height of abo'ut 80 feet, and then sailed rapidly round and 
round the field. The sensation of flying was something 
entirely new. I was exhilarated, charmed, delighted. 
After I became a little used to it I was able to observe 
the field below, which glided under us with marvelous 
speed. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 23 

After ten minutes of this thrilling experience Mike 
decided to land, as he did not wish tO' try my nerves too 
severely the first time. The landing was perfect. Mike 
shut off the motor at a height O'f 70 feet, and the aero- 
plane came gliding down like a big bird. I could not tell 
just when we came to earth, so' gently did the airship 
alight. It glided along on its runners for a short dis- 
tance and then came quietly to a stop. 

I stepped out on the grass like a man in a dream, 

"HoAv did you like it?" asked Mike. 

For answer I fairly hugged him. He was pleased 
and asked at once about a trip through Ireland. 

'Tt would be grand," I exclaimed, "let us go." 

Wq had several other flights together and we were 
both confident that we could have a glorious time in the 
Emerald Isle with an airship. 

We soon completed our arrangements. The aero- 
plane was taken to pieces and carefully packed. Each 
box was marked "Oueenstown." 

In three weeks' time we were ready to start. We 
booked on the Lusitania, and, as the boxes, in which our 
aeroplane was stored, were taken on board as baggage, 
we landed in five days at Queenstown, airship and all. 

I had crossed the Atlantic several times before, but 
this voyage was the most exciting of all. We sat on 
deck and talked oi O'ur plans when we landed. Mike 
was sure of his ability to fly a day at a time, and so we 
outlined a strenuous program. I was well acquainted 



24 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

with Ireland, and I had marked our stopping places as 
we would fly through the island. 

Sometimes fear of failure would take possession of 
my mind. The whole thing was so' novel. Such a thing 
as flying round a country on a sight-seeing trip had 
never been attempted. I was fearful I had been rash. 

A talk with Mike always sent these fears to the 
winds. He had no fears whatever. 

As Mike was to have the chief share in piloting our 
airship, I decided to take generous notes and prepare a 
full account of the places we visited and our most ex- 
citing experiences as we flew over the green fields of 
Erin. From these notes I have prepared for the world 
the account of our trip which is found in the following 
chapters. 

We had not breathed a word about our plans to 
anyone on board during our voyage across the Atlantic, 
and when we landed at Queenstown we quietly sent on 
our "baggage" to Cork, and followed ourselves that 
evening. We had planned to begin our flight from 
Cork. We expected to fly around the island in a couple 
of days and then visit some attractive places one by one. 
We were compelled tO' change this plan, as we shall see. 

After a good night's rest at the Imperial Hotel in 
Cork, we ''assemibled," as aeronauts say, the various 
parts of O'Ur airship the next morning on a level field 
just outside the city. 

We avoided the public as much as possible, and the 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 25 

few people who came around found us non-committal, 
and wondered what we were doing. 

In the evening when we were left alone, about nine 
o'clock, (it is still quite light at this time in Ireland 
during July) we made a short trial ascent. Our first 
flight beneath the kindly Irish skies was a complete suc- 
cess. Everything was working beautifully. 

Well satisfied \\ith our first day's work we returned 
to our hotel for the night. Our plan was to fiy the first 
day as far as the Giant's Causeway, going up the West 
side of the island. On the second day we expected to 
return to Cork and make trips here and there after that. 

\Vq had another good night's rest, and rose with 
the sun, or rather a little before it. We found our aero- 
plane in the field as we left it, and after carefully ex- 
amining every part, Mike said : 

"All right, Jack. Let us start." 

I climbed up on my seat. Mike started the motor. 
The machine began to move along the starting rail, and 
rose like a bird. When we had gone up to^ about the 
height of 200 feet we circled around over Cork. In the 
dav\'ning light we could see the strange tower of the 
Church of Saint I\Iary Shandon, St. Patrick's Street, 
and the beautiful Cathedral of St. Finbar's. I could also 
distinguish Queen's College. 

Turning in a northwestern direction, Mike said to 
me : 

"Now we're off." 
We were speeding through the air towards Killarney. 




CHAPTER II 

FLYING OVER KILLARNEY IN AN AIRSHIP 

^^*"*^/?7 T was just 4:30 by my watch as we started 
Tf W from Cork on that eventful nth day of 
J] July. There was good daylight, but the 
■^^ city was still wrapped in its slumbers. 

It was a beautiful summer morning and our spirits 
ro'se with the aeroplane. ' We began the strangest trip 
through Ireland that was ever made by man. I can 
never forget the sight of the green fields of Coimty Cork 
that morning. It was a scene of peaceful loveliness. 

The first place of interest we passed over was Blar- 
ney Castle, which is only five miles from Cork. We 
swept directly over the famous ruin, and I had a strange 
feeling as I looked down on the far-famed fortress from 
my aerial seat. As I had been at Blarney Castle before 
I was able toi locate that part of the wall where the 
Blarney Stone is seen. I tried tO' point it out tO' Mike, 
but, before I could get the place described, we had flown 
over it. We learned that to describe anything like that 
on the aeroplane you have to look as far ahead as pos- 
sible. I had no idea the country around Blarney was so 
beautiful until I had a good bird's eye view of it. I was 
convinced that we would see all the scenic beauties of 
Ireland from our aeroplane as they had never been seen 
before. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 27 

The distance from Cork tO' Killarney is 50 miles as 
the crow flies, and as we were now travehng hke crows 
we measured distances as they did. We cotikl see the 
River Lee at our left as it meandered through the neat 
farms and little fields of the Cork farmers. The pleas- 
ant-looking" cottages fairly flew beneath us. We were 
surprised to see so much of County Cork under cultiva- 
tion, as we expected to see it all in grazing land. I 
found out later that under the beneficent new Land 
Laws most of these small farmers now own tlieir own 
farms, and that this part of L-eland is prospering. 

It was a perfect picture that met our gaze as we 
looked around. The small fields were divided with thick 
hedges, or stone walls, sometimes with a wall of earth. 
Groves were frequent. Here and there a lordly mansion 
peered out at us through the trees. 

Quite a distance to our left we could see 
Macroom, where the railroad fromi Cork ends. It look- 
ed SO' quiet and still in that region that morning that I 
was reminded that there was a tradition that the gentle 
Quaker, William Penn, was born there. Penn's father 
had a seat at Macroom, but I think the young William 
gave his first cry in London. At least, I once saw the 
font in a London church in which he was immersed as 
a tiny infant. 

''Now for the mountains," said Mike, as the Kerry 
hills drew near. Their peaks loomed up before us big 
as the Himalayas. Mike began to raise the airship 
higher and higher. 



28 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

Right here I want to- confess that often throughout 
the whole trip in this aeroplane with Mike I had shaky 
feelings that were a little unpleasant. Once in a while 
in imagination I could see myself tumbling over and 
over to the ground, like a wounded bird. Nor were my 
fears altogether groundless, as we shall see. If Mike 
had any such apprehensions he never said a word to me 
about it. I rather think he was so busily engaged con- 
stantly with the operation of the aeroplane that he had 
little time to think of anything else. I had much bet- 
ter cliance tO' see the country than he did, but I also had 
more time on my hands during which I could conjure 
up all kinds O'f disasters. I well remember that, as we 
rose to a dizzy height, in order to clear the Kerry Moun- 
tains, I had almost a nervous attack. For a moment I 
shut my eyes and heartily wished I was on the earth 
again. If I could have gotten safely to land just then, I 
am fraid that all the gold in Ophir would not have 
tempted me to fly again. I was roused by a cry from 
Mike. 

''Look," he fairly shouted, ''isn't that grand?" 

I opened my eyes cjuickly and saw Mike, with his 
face all aglow, gazing on a high peak which we soon 
recognized as Mount Mangerton. 

It towered far above us, high as we were, for this 
peak is over 2,700 feet high. Soon the Devil's Punch- 
bowl, another high mountain peak, with a flat top, came 
into view. This mountain, which is over 2,600 feet 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 29 

high, is easily recognized. Formerly it was a volcano, 
but long ago burnt itself out. The crater is now filled 
with clear, cold spring water, which is piped to the vil- 
lage of Killarney. It is surely an Irishism to call this 
beautiful water from this huge natural reservoir the 
"devil's punch." 

We were looking so intently on these great hills 
that we crossed the crest of the divide before we were 
aware. All at once Mike startled me as^-ain. 

"In the name of all that is great, look there," he ex- 
claimed. 

Never can I forget the sight that lay before us as 
I lowered my eyes and caught my first glimpse of the 
Vale of Killarney. The panorama was one of surpass- 
ing loveliness. There was no fear whatever in my heart 
now. All was wonder, admiration, delight. The three 
Killarney Lakes lav embosomed amongf the towering 
hills. The Lakes are fully eleven miles long and at one 
place two and a half miles broad. Magnificent forests 
fringe them on every side, and over sixty wooded is- 
lands float in the charmed waters. Just ahead of us was 
Muckross Abbey. This ancient Abbey was founded in 
1440 by the McCarthys, and is a notable ruin. The 
walls and tower are in good condition. We could see 
the ivy glisten in the morning light from the top of 
the tower, and I caught a passing glimpse of the gigan- 
tic yew tree, nearly fourteen feet in circumference, which 
every visitor to Muckross Abbey will remember. 



30 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

"Hurrah for old Ireland," cried Mike, as we glided 
down to- within 150 feet of the waters of the Upper 
Lake. We soon rose again to abont 300 feet aJDOA^e the 
water, as this gave us the 'best view, and at this altitude 
we sailed triumphantly along the entire course of the 
Lakes. 

Here we first noticed the effect that an aeroplane 
had on the ordinary denizens of the earth. It was now 
6 :oo o'clock, and some early risers among the tO'urists 
at Killarney were enjoying the marvels of a Killarney 
morning along the banks. We could hear their excited 
exclamations as they caught sight of us, but we fiew on 
majestically. 

W^e soon passed the two' smaller Lakes, which are 
joined by short narrow streams, and discerned Ross' 
Castle clothing itself witli all the glories of a morning 
of simshine as it has done, every time it has had a 
chance, for 600 years. I say ''every time, it has had a 
chance" advisedly, for all who are acquainted with Kil- 
larney weather know that this fine ruin is often com- 
pelled to clothe itself with morning mists and rain. 

Ro'ss Castle was on our right and, beyond it, we 
could see Kenmare House, the home of the Earl of Ken- 
m,are, who owns Killarney. It is situated in the midst 
of a lovely park, with beautiful gardens, covering fully 
1900 acres of woodland and lawn. However, as Mike 
and I sailed past it in our airship we would not have 
exchanged places with the Earl himself. Beyond Ken- 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 31 

mare House we could see Killarney village straggling 
along amongst the trees. \Ax were now crossing the 
Lower Lake, which is the largest, being nearly six miles 
long. We turned to our left and gazed wnth awe at the 
towering peaks which enclose this scene of beauty. The 
shifting of the light among the hills was glorious. Look- 
ing over our shoulders to the left we caught sight of 
Carntual, over 3,400 feet high, the highest moimtain 
in Ireland. Altogether there are six prominent peaks, 
and as they rise from the level they make a majestic 
scene. We passed directly over the Lmisfallen island. 
This large and beautiful island in the Lower Lake covers 
tw^enty-one acres and from above it looked like "a beau- 
tiful miniature of a beautiful country." \Ye could see 
the famous ruins of Lmisfallen Abbey on the island. 
This Abbey was founded in 600 by St. Finian, and it is 
one of the oldest ecclestiastical ruins in Erin. The L'ish 
poet, Thomas Moore, has immortalized this little Island 
in his ode: 

"Sweet Innisfallen, fare thee well." 

After passing Innisfallen we discussed our further 
route. Mike wanted to circle over the Lakes again, but 
I objected. I wanted to carr)^ away the remembrance 
of Killarney as I had seen it for the first time from an 
aeroplane. I was afraid a second look would take aw^ay 
souie of the charm. Mike also wanted tO' gO' up the Gap 
of Dunloe, but I also objected tO' this, as I washed to hur- 
ry on direct to the North of Ireland that day. We com- 



32 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 



promised by agreeing to- turn around at the north end 
of the lakes, and make a circle over the north part of 
Lower Lake, while we took our last look at Killarney's 
Vale. 

When we had finally turned our backs on the glori- 
ous scene and Mike started north over the high plains^ 
I repeated softly: 

"Beauty's home, Killarney, 
Heaven's reflex Killarney. 
Angels fold their wings and rest 
In this Eden of the West." 

Mike roused me rudely from my dreams by remark- 
ing : 

''These two angels haven't folded their wings from 
the. looks of things. See how the ground flies past." 

I laughed good-naturedly and gradually woke up 
from the spell of the beauteous Lakes of Killarney. 

I pulled out my watch. It was 6:20. A short time 
later we caught sight of the railroad between Killarney 
and Tralee and followed it about 100 feet alcove the 
tracks. 




CHAPTER III 

OUR EXPERIENCES IN COUNTY KERRY 

S we winged our way above the railroad ties 
we rested after the excitement of Killarney. 
Wg were now in the heart of Kerry. This 
part of Ireland is not as prospero^us as some 
other parts. The land is hilly and rocky. Fences are 
generally made of stone. The little cottages are also 
built of stone, thatched with straw. We could see the 
stack of peats beside them to be used as fuel, and the 
little potato patch which furnished food. Blue smoke 
was beginning tO' curl in the air from some of these 
cabins, telling us that rural Ireland was awakening for 
another day of life, such as it is. 

Of all the sensations that ever visited Ireland, we 
surely were the greatest in modern times. We were 
much amused tO' see the different ways in which our ap- 
pearance in the air was greeted. Sometimes the child- 
ren (plentiful throughout all Ireland) would be playing 
in front of the cabin. As they heard the noise of our 
motor we could see them' stop their play and gaze at us 
in amazement, and then, with a yell, all w^ould dive at 
once for the door of their home. The mother, generally 
with a baby in her arms, would appear quickly. Some- 
times the woman would shriek, like the children, and 
run inside again. At other times we noticed the women 



34 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

get down on their knees, as in prayer. Once or twice, 
the woman ran out and waved her arms at us, as though 
in greeting. The men generally looked stolidly at us in 
mute amazement. 

We had an exciting time when passing a morning 
train coming from Tralee. We could see it smoking in 
the distance, and tO' avoid a collision, as Mike said, we 
turned the aeroplane about lOO feet to the right side of 
the track. The engineer caught sight of us first, and 
signalled us with a number of toots on his whistle. The 
tooting brought the passengers tO' the windows and soon 
heads were sticking out along the side of the train from 
one end to the other. They waved their hats, handker- 
chiefs, umbrellas, newspapers, and I saw one old gentle- 
man vigorously shaking a book at us. I took out my 
handkerchief and waved it in return. The engineer kept 
tooting his w^histle until he was far past us. 

We watched the little Kerry cows, which looked 
carefully for any stray vegetation to be found in the 
Kerry uplands, for we had heard that the Kerry cow 
never looks up, for fear it would lose a bite. Certainly 
none looked up at us. Cows and men have a serious 
time of it in Kerry, forcing a churlish soil for daily 
food. Many of the men in Kerry spend part of the year 
in Eng-land w^orking there, while the wives and children 
look after the cabbage and potato patches. We saw pigs 
and goats, and a few sheep aro'und some of the cottages. 

The Eno-lish Government has a Board, called the 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 35 

Congested Districts' Board, which is at present doing 
excellent work in assisting the people of Kerry and 
others of these hilly western co'unties. This board aids 
in migration to other parts of Ireland, if it is found nec- 
essary, and also assists in developing the country as far 
as is possible. Breeds of stock are improved through 
its help, and industries, such as rug-making, lace-making 
and basket-making, are encouraged. This Board has 
also been useful in developing the fisheries industry on 
the west coast by constructing landing places and equip- 
ping boats for the fishermen. 

As the morning advanced, and the entire population 
had aroused itself we were kept in a state of continual 
amusement by the excitement we caused, as we whizzed 
across the solitary moors. I felt real sympathy with 
Bridget, who, as she walked from the wedding altar on 
Pat's arm, whispered to him : 

"If we could only stand and see ourselves now, 
wouldn't it be hivin, Pat?" I felt if we could only see 
ourselves from the ground and hear the comments of 
the natives our bliss would have been full. 

We passed Tralee at 6:35. This is a pretty town 
situated on Tralee Bay. There are many beautiful resi- 
dences in its neighborhood. Lord Kirchener was born 
here. 

We were 200 feet in the air when we swept at full 
speed over the closely built houses of the town. We 
could see a few people stirring on the streets and they 



36 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

looked up at us in wonder, but did not make any mani- 
festation. Evidently they knew what an aeroplane was. 
After passing Tralee we kept clo'se to the coast, and 
soon saw the wide mouth of the river Shannon ahead of 
us. This is Ireland's largest river, 220 miles long, pour- 
ing itself into the sea North of County Kerry. The Ker- 
ry coast is rather bleak and it was with a feeling of reh'ef 
that we rushed across the wide mouth of the Shannon 
into Coimty Clare. 

Here our motor gave its first trouble. As we were 
crossing the Shannon it alarmed me by beginning to 
''knock" (as motorists say) and Mike told me the spark- 
er was not working properly. W'e had planned to make 
our first landing at Kilkee on the coast of Clare, and, as 
this was not far distant, Mike kept on at full speed along 
the coast. The coast scenery here is rugged and grand. 
Kilkee is situated at the head of a little bay, called 
Moore's Bay. \\'hen we reached this bay Mike sped 
clear out over its waters, to my amazement, and then 
turned up the bay to Kilkee. 

Coming up the bay we could see much excitement 
on the shore near the town. People were running down 
to the shore from all directions. Mike circled over the 
town, about 300 feet in the air, and then came down on a 
level stretch of coast beside the village. 

Kilkee is ever 100 miles from Cork, as the crow, or 
aeroplane, flies. We landed exactly at 8 :oo o'clock. As 
I stepped from my seat, I felt stiff and lame, but a little 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 37 

exercise straig-htened me out. ^Nlike busied himself at 
once with the motor. He began unscrewing the spark 
plugs and overhauling the whole engine. 

Meanwhile the crowd kept gathering until. I sup- 
pose, in ten minutes, the entire town was standing around 
us open-mouthed. The boys in the crowd closed in on 
us at once and began asking all sorts of questions. 
When we told them we were from America the buzz of 
excitement grew louder, as they thought at first that we 
had crossed the Atlantic, since we came directly from 
the sea. Mike, at last, explained that we had only come 
from Cork that morning. This was wonderful enough 
to them and we heard all kinds of exclamations. "The 
Saints preserve us," said one good lady, with a shawl 
wrapped around her head, ''what's the world coming 
to?" 

''Begorra," said a genuine Irishman, "I never 
thought they could make a crow out of a man." 

Some volunteered the information that they had 
sons, or brothers, in America, and it was not long until 
the crowd and us were on familiar terms. We hired two 
honest-looking fellows to watch the aeroplane, and keep 
the boys off from it, while w^e went down the straggling 
street of the town, looking for a place to get some re- 
freshment. 

A man, wdiom one of the bystanders assured us w^as 
''the bist man in town," took us in charge and escorted 
us to his own home. His good wife, a kindly, middle- 



38 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

aged Irish woman of the middle class, soon had a cup 
of hot tea and some ''scones" ready for us. This was 
our first taste of Irish hospitality and it astonished us. 

We found our host a most companionable man. 
When we explained our plans about an 'aeroplane trip 
all around Ireland, he said : 

''You Americans can do anything." 

Our host accompanied us back to the airship where 
there was still the same wondering crowd. The two 
watchmen were busy keeping the little lads away from 
the machine. They helped Mike arrange the starting 
rail, and Mike and I took our seats. 

Our guards cleared the way. Mike started the 
motor, and shouted "Goodbye." 

"Bye-bye," shouted the crowd, in the heartiest way. 

"Come back again," shouted our host. 

At this a little boy piped up, to the amusement of us 



all 



"Fly away Jack, fly away Jill; 
Come back Jack, come back Jill.' 



Amid cheers we arose lightly from the earth, and 
were soon speeding once more up the Clare coast to- 
wards Galway. We left Kilkee at 9 :oo o'clock. 



CHAPTER IV 




A THRILLING VISIT TO CONNEMARA 

had read of the grandeur of the Irish sea- 
coast in County Clare, and I asked Mike to 
keep as close tO' the sea as he could. He 
obeyed me only toO' well, half of the time 
being over the ocean. 

The rugged cliffs grew more and more picturesque 
as we neared Hag's Head. After passing over this 
promontory, the famous Moher Cliffs came into view. 
These are sheer precipices, fully 600 feet high, and, as 
seen fromi the ocean, they present a magnificent appear- 
ance. In passing these cliffs our aeroplane was about 
500 feet above the sea, and about 100 feet out from land, 
so that we saw them to the best advantage. These cliffs 
stretch along the coast for five or six miles. From the 
Moher Cliffs w^e turned landward, in a northeastly direc- 
tion, as we wished to pass over the city of Galway, and 
enter the Connemara country from the shores of Lake 
Corrib. 

The Clare farms seemed somiewhat better than 
those of Kerry, but not much. We saw many one-room 
cabins. For many miles we flew about 60 feet over 
Clare, and I observed the country with interest. Clare 
and Galway are the present centers of unrest in Ireland. 
There is where "cattle-driving" is practised most. Fences 



40 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

are destroyed and large herds of cattle, belonging to 
some landlord, are scattered over the country roads. 
The cause of ''cattle-driving" is the enmity of the peas- 
ants toward the landlords who turn their estates into. 
vast grazing farms, thus depriving the peasants of any 
soil to cultivate. 

The Government has tried to have the landlords 
sell out their estates to these landless ones, but some re- 
fuse to do so, and there is no> compulsory legislation at 
jDresent in the matter of landlords selling to tenants. 

As these landlords do- not live in Ireland and have 
little interest in Irish people the Government is now 
seeking remedial legislation which will compel the land- 
lord to sell his estate. Absentee landlordism has been 
Ireland's historic curse for centuries. As one Irishman 
•expressed it: "Ireland has been overrun with absentee 
landlords." 

For many years the English Government sought 
merely to repress the outbreaks of the dissatisfied Irish. 
Now, an honest attempt is being made to cure the cause 
of the discontent, and this accounts for these Land 
Laws, which have pro\'ed of such benefit already to the 
Emerald Isle. 

Absentee landlords are hard tO' intimidate by popu- 
lar outbreaks. On one occasion the angry tenants 
threatened to shoot the steward of a particularly obnox- 
ious landlord, and the steward wrote about it to his mas- 
ter in England. The brave Englishman promptly re- 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 41 



plied: "Tell the tenants that no threat to shoot you will 
terrify me.'' 

We reached Galway Bay shortly after ten o'clock 
and fifteen minutes later we were circling- over the an- 
cient city of Galway. Galway has been called a Dutch 
city, and its architecture, as we looked down on it. did 
seem more varied than the usual plain style of Irish 
buildings. 

We created great excitement as we circled over 
the city at a height of 150 feet. The motor was acting 
a little erratic occasionally, and I wanted Mike to alight, 
but he disliked facing the curious crowds. 

"There are lots of bogs in County Galway," he said 
laughingly. ''We will light easy on one of them if the 
motor stops." 

The river, connecting Lough Corrib and Galway 
Bay, divides the city into two parts, connected by sev- 
eral bridges. Crowds rushed out on the bridges as they 
saw us fly overhead. We could hear them cheering and 
some one fired ofT a pistol. This frightened Mike and he 
started toward Lough Corri]>, like a wild duck which 
had been bombarded by a hunter. 

I saw a fine old church in Galway, and I easily 
recognized Queen's College. It is a noble Gothic build- 
ing. 

This is one of the three "godless" Colleges, estab- 
lished in Ireland by Queen Victoria early in her reign. 
They are called "godless" bv the Irish because thev have 



42 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

nO' specific religious instruction in their curriculum. 
The other Queen's Colleges are located at Belfast and 
Cork. 

We were now speeding over Lough Cor rib, a large 
fresh-water lake, where there is excellent fishing. Mike 
is a keen fisherman and his teeth watered as I told him 
of Lough Corrib's reputation amongst the disciples of 
Isaac Walton. 

A few miles from Galway we turned west into- the 
heart of the far-famed Connemara country. As we 
swept over this part of Ireland we could see why Conne- 
mara is so celebrated. It makes a splendid panorama. 
There are literally hundreds of little lakes, there is grand 
mountain scenery, there are the heather and peat lands 
in abundance. 

We were glad to fly over it, however, rather than 
live there, for the monotony and barren soil repel a man 
with an active mind and a good stomach. 

Men were scarce, but we saw some, mostly at work 
in the peat lands. We caught sight of some Connemara 
women also, \\'ith red skirts, and Mike said he thought 
they were shoeless. 

We went through the pass of Kylemore, called the 
''Gem of Connemara." Two lo'fty peaks rise on each 
side, and, in oi'der to avoid land currents, we had to rise 
to a height of 500 feet in going through. 

I was astonished to see in this out-of-the-way place 
a magnificent countrv home. It was surrounded with 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 43 



an immense garden, and the walks and drives were beau- 
tified with flaming- red fuchsia hedges. 

I hastily referred to my little guide book, and found 
it was Kylemore Castle, and that an American lady liv- 
ed there. She was formerly Miss Helena Zimmerman, 
of Cincinnati, O'hio, but she fell from grace and is now 
'known as the Duchess of Manchester. She must have 
some pangs of conscience about it, for no live American 
girl would live in this solitary region unless as an act of 
penance foi* her sins. 

We passed close enough to Clifden, the extreme 
western point in Ireland, to see Clifden Castle, and also 
the Marconi Station. Marconi found a resting place at 
Clifden for the weary wireless messages after their long 
flight across the Atlantic, and he has a large Station 
here. He also found a resting place at Clifden for his 
weary heart, as he married Miss O'Brien, a beauty of 
Western Ireland. 

AVe could hear plainly the sending of a wireless mes- 
sage. It was like a bombardment, report following re- 
port, like the discharge of artillery. Passing west of 
the Twelve Pins, a striking group of mountains, we en- 
tered County Mayo aloug the seacoast. Skirting Mount 
Muilrea, 2,685 feet high, we turned northeast to Croagh 
Patrick. 

If Ireland's mountains were pressed out, the area of 
the island would be doubled. Countv Mayo resembles 



44 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

County Clare, and the stone cabins, little fields, and 
winding roads, are all distinctly Irish. 

We were now used to the excitement caused every- 
where as we whirred over the astonished peasants. One 
Irishman in County Mayo^ amused us hugely. He must 
have had ears like an Indian's, for he heard our motor 
while we were fully a mile behind him. Turning sud- 
denly, he gave our aeroplane one long look, and then, 
dropping his bundle on the road, he started to run like a 
hare, as if to make his escape. It may have been his 
conscience that troubled him. Mike lowered the aero'- 
plane until we were not more than 25 feet above him, as 
we shot directly over his head. Just as we passed above 
him he let out an unearthly shriek. 

Perhaps it was a retributive act of justice, but, at 
any rate, a few moments later we were a good deal more 
scared than the Irishman. 




CHAPTER V 

ALMOST A DISASTER 

Y hand trembles as I recall Croagh Patrick, 
and. our flight over it. This mountain is 
fully 2,500 feet high, and rises abruptly 
from the shores O'f Clew Bay. In many ways 

it was the most attractive mountain to me in all Ireland. 

There is a flat plain, with some ruins, on the top of it, 

and in former times it was a place of great sanctity. 

Saint Patrick, after whom the mountain is named, 

made several pilgrimages to its summit, and here St. 

Patrick exercised magic power for Ireland's welfare. 

Here is the record in the historian's O'wn words : 

"St. Patrick brought together here all the demons, 
to'ads, serpents, and other venomous creatures in Ireland 
and imprisoned them in a deep ravine on the sea front 
of the mountain, kno'wn as Lugnademon (the pit of the 
demons) as fast as they came in answer to his summons, 
and kept them safely there until he was ready to destroy 
them. Then, standing 011 the summit of the Croagh, 
St. Patrick, with a bell in hand, cursed them and expell- 
ed them from Ireland for ever. And every time he rang 
the bell thousands of toads, adders, snakes, reptiles and 
other noisome things went down, tumbling neck and 
heels after each other, and were swallowed up for ever 
in the sea." 



46 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

As we nearecl Croagh Patrick I bravely asked Mike 
to sail over its flat top, and see this sacred spot. Mike 
was ready toi do it in a minute. He pulled the levers 
and we began to ascend, while still over two miles dis- 
tant from the mountain. Higher and higher we went 
when we reached an altitude of 2,oo0' feet, I could feel 
my heart begin to thump. 

Timing himself with an accuracy, which astonished 
me, Mike sailed over the top of Croagh Patrick about 30 
feet above the flat plain. He circled around once and 
we passed close beside the ruin of the ancient chapel. 
There is also a large Celtic Cross standing upright on 
the summit. 

I was so glad to have old Mother Earth so near 
once more, that I suggested that we land. Mike was 
going tO' bring the aeroplane down when he remembered 
that there was no way toi rig up a starting rail on the 
top of Croagh Patrick, and so we kept on in our flight. 
A minute afterwards I was sorry we did not alight, 
anyhow. 

After his second circle around the flat plain, which 
is half a mile square, Mike started east, and in a couple 
of minutes the earth was 2,500 feet below us. The sud- 
denness of the appearance of this vast abyss between us 
and land seemed even to unnerve Mike for a moment. I 
almost collapsed. 

Then Mike did a foolish thing. He imagined he 
could glide down from this height, and he shut of the 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 47 

motor. We glided swiftly some 300 feet, and then I 
could feel the aeroplane begin to sink under us. What 
happened I do not just know. The first intimation I had 
of real danger was Mike's face as he quickly turned to 
start the motor. I could hear the big propellers whiz 
behind me. In starting the motor, Mike released a lever 
ior an instant. As we were descending with lightning 
speed this was almost the cause of a fatal disaster. The 
aeroplane began to rock violently, and I was almost 
thrown from my seat. The accident to Orville Wright 
and Lieutenant Selfridge at Washington the year before 
flashed before my mind. I wondered if Mike could re- 
gain control of the machine. I caught the sides of my 
seat and braced myself against the foot-rail. Even then 
I had difficulty in holding on. I glanced at Mike. His 
face was pale. His eyes shone. Ever}^ muscle and 
nerve was tense. He was like a rider on a runaway 
horse, determined to assert his mastery. His self-con- 
trol was prefect. 

In spite of Mike's coolness I am surprised we es- 
caped. As the aeroplane kept sinking and rocking like 
a ship in a storm, I closed my eyes and resigned myself 
to my fate. I was aroused by Mike's voice. 

''A close call. Jack, old boy," he said affectionately. 
I could see that there were tears in his eyes. He was 
thinking of me and of my escape. Brave Mike. I want- 
ed to hug him right there. I looked around and saw we 
were about 500 feet above ground, the aeroplane gliding 
smoothly through the air. 



48 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

It was fortunate for us there was no breeze to 
speak of. All that morning, except for a Httle while on 
the seacoast, the wind gave us no trouble. 

I was glad tO' see Westpoint a few miles ahead, as 
we had planned to stop there for a lunch, and tO' replen- 
ish our supply of gasoline, or petrol, as they call it in 
Ireland. 

One good thing came out of our Croagh Patrick 
experience. I began to help Mike in operating the aero- 
plane. I took entire charge of the motor, which I could 
reach more readily than he could, at any rate. This 
left him free to manage the levers. He was the captain 
and gave all orders, but I started and stopped the motor 
the rest of our trip. 

I found this of advantage to me, especially after 
the rapid descent from Croagh Patrick, as it gave me 
somiething to do, and, when not engaged watching the 
scenery, or consulting my map or guide-book, I could 
busy myself with the motor. 

We had other exciting incidents, but this division 
of labor assisted us in keeping the aeroplane completely 
under our control — as long as the motor worked. 



CHAPTER VI 

FROM WESTPOINT TO ENNISKILLEN 

IKE made an excellent landing in an open 
'\>>V^ space in a beautiful park beside Westpoint. 
^ i^ A small crowd soon gathered around us 

^^=^^=^ ^^,hen we lit, but Mike and I paid little atten- 
tion to them. I stepped out on the ground and looked 
at my watch. It was one o'clock. We had been in the 
air four hours. Mike felt the strain of this long aerial 
journey also, but not so much as I did. He was more 
accustomed to aeroplaning. 

Our motor had l>een acting well, on the whole. It 
was a new style motor, without carburetor, and I had 
been suspicious of it, but it surpassed any motor I had 
ever seen in reliability. 

We had just finished stretching out our tired limbs, 
when a middle-aged man, with a kindly, honest face, but 
an important air, came hurrying along the driveway of 
the park in our direction. 

We heard several in the crowd exclaim : "The 
Keeper, the Keeper." The new comer looked at us in 
astonishment and then he inspected O'ur aeroplane. Then 
he looked at us again, and exclaimed : ''By the Powers.'^ 

We did not know what kind of a salutation this 
might be, but Mike told what we were doing and why 
we had alighted in the Park. 



50 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

The ^'Keeper," as they called him, at once became 
friendly and introduced himself as the Steward of the 
Marquis of Sligo, in whose park we had alighted and 
whose mansion was close at hand. The Steward resided 
at the mansion, as the Marquis did not spend much time 
on his Irish estate. 

He invited us to coiiie up tO' the mansion, which in- 
vitation w^e gladly accepted. Following the Steward, 
we soon arrived at the stately home of the Marquis of 
Sligo, who' O'wns the greater part of this section of Ire- 
land. He is an absentee landlord, but he comes to West- 
point occasionally, and he treats his tenants liberally, 
for an Irish landlord. The large park around his 
mansion is open to all Westporters. We noticed, from 
the signs, that automobiles were not allowed tO' enter 
the park, but aeroplanes were not excluded, at least, not 
yet. 

The Steward served us a good lunch, and sent a 
boy with a pony-cart to town to get the petrol. The 
Sligo Mansion is luxuriously furnished, and Mike and I 
felt like royal travellers. 

The Steward's kindness was explained when he be- 
gan to talk about America. He had two brothers in the 
New World, and told us that tens of thousands of Irish- 
men from County Mayo' and County Galway had left 
Ireland for America in the past twenty years. 

Westport is the most westerly town in Ireland, and 
is only i,6oo miles from Nova Scotia. At one time it 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 51 

was proposed tO' run a line of steamers from here to 
America, but the project fell through. 

We would like tO' have spent a day or two around 
Westport, but we still thought we could reach the 
Giant's Causeway that evening, although I was begin- 
ning to think that Antrim was quite a long ways off. 

The Steward showed us around the gardens and 
grounds, and even offered to drive us over the town, 
but we were anxious to get started in the air again and 
we declined. It was 2 :oo o'clock when we had the 
starting rail in place and had everything in readiness for 
another flight. 

An immense crowd had gathered around the aero- 
plane. They made few remarks, evidently restrained 
by the presence of the steward, for whom they showed 
much respect. One or two did volunteer an Irish fare- 
well. 

'Ah, then," said one old woman, "it's not often we 
have the blessing of such fine company, good luck to 
your honors, and God send yoii safe back again." 

'Good-bye," said a good-natured Son of Erin, with 
the map of Ireland all O'ver his face. ' Good-bye, and I 
hope ye can kape on your feet until you land agin." 

'God bless yoii, sors," said the Stew^ard, "and keep 
yon safe and bring 3^ou back." 

One gets used to hearing the name of Deity in Ire- 
land, but it does not shock you. The Irish use God's 
name familiarly, but reverently; not lightly, as in 



52 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

France; or vulgarly, as so often in America. No one 
calls on God to damn you in Ireland. God is appealed 
to for blessing. 

''Good-bye/' Mike and I shouted, as we rose in the 
air. The crowd broke out in cheers, as we sailed away 
toward Coimty Sligo, 

We crossed several lakes and mucli enjoyed the rest 
of our flight over County Mayo, but it is not a desirable 
part of Ireland in which tO' till the soil. We passed over 
a pretty little town on a railroad, called Castlebar. We 
entered County Sligo near Swineford. 

Just after entering County Sligo, Mike said to me: 

''Where's our sunshine?" 

I looked around. The entire sky was overcast. 
We were having the usual experience with the Irish 
weather, which some one has said is as changeable as 
the Irish character. Smiles and tears come at a mo- 
ment's notice. 

The clouds soon got to work and it began to driz- 
zle. Passing over Sligo we could see the farms improve, 
and when we reached County Leitrim, which we entered 
near Lake Allen, we could see a marked improvement. 
The soil w^as fertile, the farms and houses were larger,, 
and there was a general air of prosperity apparent. 

Our aeroplane whizzed through the misty, rainy at- 
mosphere, like an ocean liner through a fog, but as the 
upper plane got soaked through, it began tO' leak down 
on us, and the water-logged planes made the machine 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 53 



more difficult to control. Mike told me that the airship 
was not built for Irish weather, but he afterwards rem- 
edied this defect, as we shall see. 

When we reached County Fermanauofh we begran 
to realize Ireland's agricultural possibilities. Ulster is 
a different world from Connaught. The landscape is 
rolling, covered with cultivated farms. The houses are 
often two-storied, slated, and neatly kept. There are 
large barns and every appearance of prosperity. The 
picture presented to us in Ulster was not so romantic as 
in Connemara, but it is more like living. In many 
parts of Connaught a crow would need to have its ra- 
tions along, but there are signs of plenty in Ulster. We 
could well understand why the Irish did not altogether 
approve of the grim: Oliver's dictum : "To Connaught 
with every Irishman." 

The inhabitants of the North of Ireland are also 
different from the Irish of the West. They are largely 
Protestant in religion and of Scotch descent. Their 
forefathers were brought to Ireland by James I., in the 
early part of the 17th century. Several of the English 
rulers had a good deal to do with the history of Ireland. 
Henry VIIL, Queen Elizabeth, Oliver Cromwell and 
James I., had extensive real estate dealings in the Emer- 
ald Isle in years gone by, and when they had completed 
their bargains the map of Ireland was altered and 
the feelings of many of the Irish were badly lacerated. 
It has taken centuries for these wounded feelinsfs to heal. 



54 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

It was after four o'clock when we sig-hted the chim'- 
neys of Enniskillen. This prosperous town is built on 
Lake Erne, or Lough Erne, as the natives call it. Lough 
Erne is another of Ireland's large fresh-water lakes. 
Enniskillen is famous as the city which, like Londonderry 
endured victoriously a siege in 1689, the year of the 
commotion between James 11. and William III. Its 
defenders manifested the greatest bravery. The banners 
captured at the Battle of the Boyne, where William IIL 
defeated James II., hang in Enniskillen's Town Hall. 

Tired and wet, I seconded heartily Mike's sugges- 
tion that we spend the night here. I felt that I could 
not fly anotJier mile. We came down rather abruptly 
in a field near town. The water-soaked aeroplane had 
become hard to control, and we narrowly missed a big 
hawthorn hedge. A farm house was near by, and the 
farmer came running to us, followed by a little crowd 
of children of all ages. After explanations, we turned 
the aeroplane over to him for the night, and trudged 
into town. Walking seemed pleasant to us both, as we 
had been flying for a whole day. In spite oif the misty 
rain, we enjoyed every step of our mile walk to the Royal 
Hotel. We had a good Irish supper, or ''tea," as they 
called it. and soon afterwards we retired for the niglit. 

The day ended perhaps a little ingloriously, but we 
were well content. 




CHAPTER VII 

A DAY IN ENNISKILLEN 

^^Y HEN we woke up late the next morning the 
^W \ sun was shining in at the windows. We 
JK congratulated ourselves on having escaped 
the bad weather of the previous evening, 
and we expected to again enjoy the sight of Ireland's 
green fields lit up with sunshine. 

When I arose I felt quite stiff and sore, and I saw 
Mike moved around with more than his usual precision. 
The prolonged flight of the previous day had wearied us 
considerably. Some aeronauts may wonder we could 
make such a long flight, but straight, cross-country aero- 
planing differs much from circling a mile track. The 
aeroplane is not so comfortable as a dirigible balloon, 
and a flight like Count Zeppelin's recent cross-country 
trip in Europe would be quite strenuous in the heavier- 
than-air machines at present. But a journey of 30O' or 
400 miles a day, with proper stops, does not call for any 
extraordinary endurance. 

As we came down stairs to breakfast we heard a 
band out on the street and we noticed an air of excite- 
ment on every hand. AVe thought, at first, that we were 
the occasion of the evident agitation, but a waiter soon 
showed us that there were greater things, even, than 
aeroplanists in Ireland on that day. 



56 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

'It's a foine Twelfth of July,'' he said tO' us. 

"What about the Twelfth of July?" asked Mike. 

The waiter stared at him, until Mike went on : 

''What's going on here today?" 

Then the waiter, seeing we were ignorant Americans 
explained to us how they celebrated the victory of the 
Boyne every Twelfth of July, and how the celel^ration 
that day was to be the biggest ever held. Then I re- 
membered how the great da}^ in the North of Ireland is 
the Twelfth of July, just as the Seventeenth of March is 
the great day in the rest of Ireland. However, St. 
Patrick's Day is now generally observed in some way 
not only in Ireland, but in all the world. 

"Mike," said I, "let us stay in Enniskillen today 
and celebrate." 

"We'll stay and rest," said Mike, "and see what 
they do here oii the "glorious Twelfth", as our waiter 
calls it." 

After breakfast we went out on the streets, and 
found them filling up with a holiday crowd. I was 
reminded of a celebration of July Fourth in America. 
Excursion trains coming in from different points in the 
surrounding territory added to the crowd every hour. 
These excursion parties broug-ht with them in every case 
one or two fife bands, and occasionally a brass band. 
These bands played popular airs to the great delight of 
the crowd. All these numerous bands, and the immense 
crowd of Irishmen and Irish women, gathered in a large 
field beside Enniskillen. It was a scene of the greatest 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 57 

entluisiasm. Bands in different parts of the field were 
playing different airs. All was hub-bub and excitement. 
There were stands all around where all kinds of drinks 
were sold. Already several plainly showed that they had 
been drinking a licjuid much stronger than lemonade. 
Lads and lasses were walking around, jostling, crowding 
and laughing. It was a good-natured crowd, as there 
was no' counter-demonstration of any kind, as happens 
sometimes in other parts of Ireland, I understand. The 
differences between the Roman Catholic and Protestant 
are very acute in the Emerald Isle for several reasons. 
O'ften the two sides have bitter disputes. In this con- 
troversy, as in all else, the inevitable humor of the 
Irish sometimes crops out. The famoiis Father O'Leary 
had a polemical contest witli the Protestant Bishop of 
Cloyne. The Bishop, in a pamphlet, inveighed with 
great acrimony against the doctrines of the Roman 
Catholic Church, and particularly against purgatory. 

Father O'Leary, in his reply, slyly observed, "that, 
much as the Bishop disliked purgatory, he might go 
farther and fare worse.'' 

\Vhen Dean Swift was at Carlow, he found the 
Episcopal Church badly dilapidated. "\Miy don't you 
give it to the Catholics?'' said the caustic Dean. "Vou 
kno'W they would repair it and you could take it from 
tlicui aftcrzcards." It is not theclogv alone that separates 
Catholics and Protestants in Ireland. The real estate 
deals of the English Kings and Queens have something 
to do with it. 



58 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

We enjoyed immensely our day in Enniskillen. We 
saw a typical North of Ireland crowd, heard an Irish 
orator declaim against ''the foes of Ireland," listened to 
Irish bands, and shared in the enthusiasm oif the occasion. 
There was an excursion steamer running on Lough Erne 
and in the afternoon we had a delightful boat ride. In 
the evening, while at supper, we had a sample of real 
Irish wit. There was a large sign in the dining room 
with this notice: ''Strangers are requested not- to give 
any money to the waiters, as attention is charged for 
in the bill." 

Our waiter saw Mike reading this sign, and re- 
marked to him : 

"Oh, Mister, sure that doesn't concern you at all. 
We're not makin' a stranger o' you, sor." 

We laughed heartily, and told him we never felt 
more at home in our lives. "Tips" are as necessary 
in Ireland, even when traveling with an aeroplane, as 
raincoats. 

We had been informed that we would find wretched 
hotels in Ireland, but the Imperial Hotel at Cork and the 
Royal Hotel at Enniskillen, are excellent hotels, and, as 
a rule, we found the hotel accommodations satisfactory. 
In the evening, before dark, we sauntered forth, and 
Mike went into a "shop," as they call stores in Erin, 
and bought out their entire supply of light oil-cloth. 
Taking this with us, we went out tO' see our aeroplane. 
In the excitement of July Twelfth, the news of our 
strange craft evidently did not spread very wide, and we 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 59 

were very glad to escape notoriety in Enniskillen. We 
found the airship just as we left it the previous night. 
The farmer wondered what had become of us. Mike 
got some tacks and a hammer, and covered the upper 
plane entirely with oil-cloth. 

"Even an airship needs a raincoat in this country," 
said Mike tO' the farmer. 

*'But, sor," said the farmer, "it's such a gentle rain 
we have here." 

The oil-cloth was quite a good idea on the part oi 
Mike. It gave us both a big umbrella during the rest 
of our trip, and the sudden showers were not so 
disagreeable. 

The next morning we started at 5 :oo o'clock, and 
after rewarding our farmer friend for his care O'f the 
aeroplane, we ascended into the Irish atmosphere again. 
After circling over Enniskillen, we turned North, and, 
leaving Lough Erne far to the West, we sped, like a 
gigantic eagle, towards Tyrone. 





CHAPTER.VIII 

CIRCLING OVER LONDONDERRY IN AN 'AREOPLANE 

E were almost an hour in reaching Omagh, 
^2? \\ the county seat of County Tyrone. As we 
flew over the city we were surprised to see 
how new-looking it was in appearance, as 
it is one of Ireland's oldest towns. I learned later that 
the old town had been destroyed some two hundred 
years ago, and that Omagh of today is comparatively 
modern. It is a neat and prosperous city, with streets, 
some of them very steep, running in every direction. 
A beautiful Cathedral adorns the hillside, and an old 
barracks, now used as a police station, is an imposing 
structure. There are several large Presbyterian churches 
which show every sign of progress and prosperity. 
There were only a few people on the streets when we 
winged our way across the city at 6:00 o'clock. These 
stared up at us and we could see them running tO' the 
high places to keep us in sight. The farms in County 
Tyrone looked large compared with the microscopic 
farms of Connaught and Kerry, but they looked very 
small to an American. The macadamized roads are 
models in the way they are kept up, but they are narrow 
and winding. When the wagon roads cross a railroad, 
there is never a grade crossing. Generally the wagon 



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THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 61 

road runs over the railroad, but occasionally dips under 
it. 

We had another exciting experience with an early 
train from Omagh to Derry. We caught up with this 
train at Newtonstewart, a picturesque little place. The 
engineer saw us, and, like his fellow-Irishman in County 
Kerry, he tooted his whistle in our honor. We flew 
alongside the train for several m.iles, about lOO feet 
from the side of the track, and 30 feet high in the air. 
As the race continued, every passenger grew more and 
more excited. They cheered and shouted, Mike, with 
both his hands on his levers, could only look down and 
grin, but I was able tO' wave my handkerchief and cap. 
The engineer gave one long, farewell toot, as he stopped 
at a station, while we flew on our way. 

At Strabane, a good-sized town, some twenty miles 
from Londonderry, we created wild excitement. A 
number of people were around the station, as we whizzed 
past, just about 20 feet in the air, directly over the 
railroad tracks. Wc rose tO' a height of 75 feet just 
after passing the station, and we could hear their loud 
cheering, as we rose like a bird. The river Foyle formed 
at Strabane by tlie junction oi the rivers Finn and 
Mourne, flows from Strabane to Derry (as Londonderry 
is called by the natives) a wide and noble stream. 

Mike turned the aeroplane directly over the river 
after we left Strabane, and we flew above it for many 
miles. This Foyle Valley is a rich agricultural country, 
and I could see the crops of oats, flax, turnips, and 



62 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

potatoes, growing in luxnriance in the fertile little fields. 
About half way between Strabane and Derry oiir motor 
gave us the first serious trouble. While we were sailing 
along over the river, all at once it stopped, like a balky 
hoi'se. 

"Start the motor, Jack," Mike yelled, thinking I 
had shut her off. 

"It stopped itself," I answered. 

"Gee-whitaker," said Mike, and I could see him 
tug at the levers in order to turn the airship towards 
the shore and bring it safely to the ground. Fortunately 
we were quite hig'h in the air, fully 200 feet, and we 
were only a short distance from the east bank of the 
river. In a few seconds Mike had brought us down 
safely, a few yards from the river's edge, on the flat 
embankment. Mike soon remedied the trouble — a screw 
had loosened. How to get started again was now our 
problem, as we needed some kind of starting rail. Some 
men around a group of houses a short distance away, 
saw us, and came running with all speed. They stared 
and gaped at us without saying a word. Mike spoke 
to one of them, and explaining our trouble, asked him to 
get a long stout board, to'use as a starting rail. The 
rustic ran back to the cottages, and soon returned with a 
good board, which Mike soon turned into a starting rail. 
Meanwhile, his companions began to make remarks, in 
true Irish style, about the aeroplane. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 63 

"Isn't that a new way to^ 'hoof ifT^ said a fellow 
with an Irish cast of countenance. 

"Let us get one, and then we can fly tO' America," 
said one of the youngest of them, a lad about eighteen 
years of age. The young fellows in rural Ireland all 
look upon America as the Eldorado of the world. 

One of them said to me : "I should think, sor, your 
air-boQt would be lonesome in Ireland." 

"Why?" I asked. 

"Because," said Erin's son, "it's the only one in 
the whole coimtry, sor." 

"Come back again, sors," one of them shouted as 
we arose from the earth to continue our journey. We 
noticed this is a familiar parting phrase in Erin. 

It was seven o'clock when we saw the smoke of 
Derry. In spite of our recent mishaps, Mike steered 
right intO' the middle of the Foyle, as we came close 
to the city. At Derry the river is spanned by a fine 
iron bridge. As we passed over this bridge, about 
twenty feet above it, we frightened a passing horse into 
a runaway, and attracted the attention of a crowd of 
laborers, wdio were crossing the bridge. Speeding on 
down the Foyle, we saw below us the masts and funnels 
of a number of ships, for Derry is an important seaport. 
Along the docks crowds of working men greeted us 
with shouts, and some of the steamers sent us a scream 
of whistles. I was much interested in old Derry. I had 
visited it often before, and, when we reached the end of 
the docks, I asked Mike to circle clear around the citv- 



64 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

We rose to a height of 30O' feet, and the famous city lay 
under us, like a picture. We coiild see the historic walls 
which enclosed the ancient city, about a mile in circum- 
ference, and still adorned with many antique cannon. 
The well-remembered siege of Derry happened in 1689, 
when James 11. besieged the city for 105 days, and the 
gallant defenders were reduced tO' the greatest extremi- 
ties. To make matters worse, Colonel Lundy, who 
commanded the garrison, turned traitor, and opened 
negotiations wnth the besiegers. His treachery was 
discovered, and he made his escape in disguise. Rev. Geo. 
Walker, one of the heroes of the siege, has been remem- 
bered with a fine monument, built on one of the bastions 
of the wiall. On this monument, every December i8th, 
an effigy of the traitor, Lundy, is burned amid great 
cheering by the descendants oi the old defenders of 
Derry. Derry Cathedral has interesting relics of this 
famous siege, but it is not a noteworthy building from 
an architectural viewpoint. 

Derry is now quite an educational centre. Foyle 
College is a prosperous institution with a pleasant loca- 
tion, overlooking the river. Magee College, a Presby- 
terian institution, is beautifully located on a high hill 
north of the city. The architecture of the building is 
stately, and this seat of learning is an important part of 
modern Derry. A large number of the Irish Presby- 
terian ministers are educated here. 

We could see the large shirt factories, which bring 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 65 

much wealth, and lots of women into* Derry. Most of 
the employees are w^omen. 

The town on the east side of the Foyle is called 
Waterside. There is a high bluff, just south of Water- 
side, which is covered with villas owned by prosperous 
Derrymen. We passed over a large military barracks 
at the north end of Waterside. Evidently, some of the 
officers in the barracks had been watching our flight 
around the city, and they were ready for us. As we 
swept over the barrack square, three large guns were 
suddenly discharged, in our honor, we suppose. Mike 
was SO' astonished at the sudden reports that he uncon- 
sciously pulled a lever, making the aeroplane veer sharply 
SO' that it began to^ rock. He had it under control again 
in a moment, but we could hear the cheering of the red- 
coated soldiers, as they noticed our maneuvers. 

We sailed on, sorry to leave the historic Maiden 
City (as Derry is proudly called because it was never 
captured.) vShortly after passing the barracks, we 

turned east, sailing over a number of delightful country 
homes. Tw^O' miles east of Derry we passed over the 
lovely valley of the Faughan river. This beautiful spot 
was one of the finest scenes we found in the whole north 
of Ireland. It was a valley filled with peace, quietness 
and sunshine that morning. We went as far east as 
Dungiven, a small country town about the centre of 
County Derry. Many modern mansions adorn the 
countryside, and the fertile soil well repays its careful 
cultivation. 



66 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

"Look at the rain," said Mike, as we turned north 
from Dnngiven. 

And raining it was. While I was gazing down on 
Derry's green fields and lovely rivers, the clouds were 
hastily gathering overhead, and threatening all kinds 
of things. Soon the rain was pattering down upon 
our aeroplane, but it fell harmlessly on our rain-coated 
airship. It was only a shower, but while it lasted the 
rain came down in a hurry. As an Irishman would put 
it, some of the drops were ''as big as a shilling or eigh- 
teen pence." In a little while the sudden tempest had spent 
itself, and the sun was shining as though nothing had 
happened. 

We followed a small stream, called the Roe, to 
Limavady. which we reached a little after eiglit o'clock. 
We had planned to stop here for some refreshments for 
ourselves, and our faithful "bird," and Mike was de- 
lighted toi see a large level field near the town, where 
he made a good descent, alighting without a jar. In five 
minutes, people were running towards us in all direc- 
tions. We had circled the little town before alighting, 
and had aroused everybody. They crowded around us 
as at Kilkee, and soon began asking all kinds of ques- 
tions. We satisfied them as best we coiild, hired a watch- 
man to guard the aeroplane, and, accompanied by a mot- 
ley following, we walked into Limavady. 




CHAPTER IX 

ALIGHTING AT THE GIANT'S CAUSEWAY 

E ascended from Limavady at 8 :30. We 
were once more cheered to the echO' as we 
left the earth. After leaving Limavady, we 
came tO' a low range o^f hills, and Mike had 
tO' use his raising levers freely as we climbed their sides. 
We saw the familiar heather and peat, and even the little 
cabins, much the same as we saw in County Mayo. At 
the top 'of the hills we had a magnificent view. We 
coiild see Coleraine clearly, nestling beside the Bann 
river, and, away in the distance, we saw again the sea. 
The surrounding country was like a panorama. We 
glided swiftly down the mountain side, and flew around 
the quaint old town of Coleraine. Scotch-Irishmen live 
in Co'leraine, and it has the reputation of having the 
best bakers in the whole island. Mike and I did not 
condescend to test this, although it was perhaps as well 
for us not to alight there, for Coleraine is famous for 
something besides bread. Fine old Coleraine whisky 
is known throughout the length and breadth of Ireland. 
A Donegal clergyman, on hearing of a sermon against 
drink, said : "Sure, I am forever at them about it. It's 
the bad stuff they take that does the mischief. I have 
told them froiii the altar that I never touched a drop 
mvself hut the best Coleraine.'' 



68 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

Sky-pilots, whether spiritual or atmospheric, have 
to leave whisky alone nowadays, so, in spite of its fame, 
we merely circled over the city. Coleraine is known for 
mianyi centuries in Irish history. St. Patrick built a 
church here. Columba visited it in 590. Later on the 
salmon fishing in the river Bann, which flowed through 
the city, made Coleraine a place of some commercial im- 
portance. Like Derry and Enniskillen, Coleraine was be- 
sieged in 1689 by the troops of James IL, and the 
garrison was compelled to evacuate the town, and retreat 
tO' Derry. 

After passing over Coleraine, we came to the sea- 
coast again at Portstewart. I could see the row of 
houses along the quay, in one of which Lever used tO' live. 
Lever's home was in Dublin, but he spent a year as a 
dispensary doctor at Portstewart, and did some writing 
here. A stiff breeze w^as blowing along the coast, and 
Mike was kept busy handling the airship. Leaving 
Portstewart, we went along the rough coast tO' Portrush. 
This was formerly a dreaded coast, many a brave ship 
going to pieces on the rocks. Portrush is the fashionable 
watering place of the North of Ireland, and it is crowded 
w^ith visitors during July and August. The town is 
built on a ridge that projects into the sea. The strands 
are beautiful. The ridge on which the town is built 
ends in a hill, called Ramore hill, which is a favorite 
promenade. We could see the bathers swimming in the 
surf, as we skimmed along the strand towards the White 
Ro'cks. These are cliffs of a stranere white formation. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 69 

A little beyond the White Rocks Mike slowed up> and 
passed around the picturesque ruins of Dunluce Castle, 
This ancient ruin crowns a high cliff, and, before men 
could fly, was a difficult place tO' reach. Right in front 
of us we could see the headlands above the Giant's 
Causeway. I did not very much enjoy my sail from. 
Dunluce to those headlands. After leaving the Castle, 
Mike turned directly out to sea, instead of following the 
coast, and crossed a bay of a few miles to^ the Causeway. 
I remembered oiir experience over the river Foyle, and 
I did not altogether appreciate Mike's daring. I was 
really relieved as we ro'se over the great cliff that over- 
hangs the Causeway, and circled around with the earth 
tinder us. We were both delighted to reach the Northern 
end of the Island. It was not quite ten o'clock when we 
arrived. 

There are two' large hotels on the high cliff, and 
we could see the tourists, many with field glasses, watch- 
ing us in the air. Mike, in the exuberance of his joy 
and self-confidence, made three great circles before 
landing. In making the last circle he went out over 
the sea again, and then alit beside the Railroad hotel as 
lightly as a bird could have done. The crowd cheered 
us as we stepped out, and some of the men came forward 
to shake hands and congratulate us. We were asked 
if we were the Wright Brothers, and when we said we 
were not, some of them suggested Curtiss, Farnam, and 
other well-known aeronauts. When we explained we 
were simply tourists, using the latest and best way of 



70 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

travel, they looked at each other, and when Mike told 
how we had come from Cork, they laughed outright. 
I do not believe half a dozen in the crowd thought we 
had come any further than from Portrush. I expect 
they would not have believed we could fly at all had they 
not seen us alight. 

One Englishman laughed sO' contemptuously that I 
noticed Mike looked at him in disgust. 

"It reminds me of the Manager of the Chicago 
Stock Yards," said the Englishman. 

"Why, what about the Manager of the Chicago- 
Stockyards?" asked Mike hotly. 

Not noticing Mike's rising temper, the Englishman 
went on to tell of a coiiple of Irishmen who went to 
Chicago, and while there, visited the Stockyards. One 
of the managers noticed the interest Erin's sons took in 
the great institution, and thought he would play a joke. 
Pointing tO' a large herd of cattle, which were being 
dri^'en intO' one of the lower buildings, the Manager 
called attention to them, and when the last tail had 
disappeared, he waited a few moments and then pulled 
a great freight elevator rope and down came a large 
elevator loaded with canned meat. 

''There," said the Manager, slyly winking at an 
employee near by, "there are all those cows you saw, 
hides, horns, hoofs, and every thing, all canned and 
ready for market. Did you ever see anything like that 
in Ireland, Pat?" he asked. 

Pat at once took out his note book and began ta 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 



write. The Manager looked over Pat's shoulder and 
read on Pat's note book: ''The Manager of the Chicago 
Stockyards is the biggest liar I have met yet." 

Mike was furious as he heard the crowd join in 
tiproarious laughter at our expense. 

''Do you call me a liar, sir," said Mike, squaring 
himself in front of the joking Englishman. 

The Englishman was taken aback at Mike's earn- 
estness, and, not knowing what to say, merely laughed 
in a foolish kind of way. 

'T allow no man to call me a liar," said Mike, as he 
stepped closer to his antagonist. Mike was a Yankee, 
but I knew there was Irish blood in his veins, and this 
rash Englishman had aroused him. 

I was afraid our aeroplane trip was going to end in 
a fiasco, when something altogether unexpected happen- 
ed. 

"I believe you, sir," said a sweet, charming, musical 
voice,'' and you must tell us all about your wonderful 
voyage over Ireland. It must have been delightful." 

Mike turned to see the speaker, and, in a moment, 
every trace of anger left his face, and he stood like a 
blushing schoolboy. 

At the same time a dark-haired, rosy-cheeked girl, 
of nineteen or twenty, clad in a dainty white sailor dress 
and cap came forward, holding out her hand. 

Mike recovered himself, clasped her hand, saying: 
'T thank you, Miss—." 

"Edith O'Neill," added the girl. 



72 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

"I am g-lad to meet you, Miss O'Neill," said Mike, 
and I never saw himi look more manly. 

The crowd burst into applause, and all was good 
cheer again. That was the first meeting of Mike and 
Miss O'Neill, and it was fraught with more meaning 
than any of us thought at the time. I found ont later 
in the day that Miss O'Neill was a descendant of the 
famous Irish O'Neill family. Her father was a wealthy 
Dublin lawyer, and she and her parents were taking a 
short holiday at the Causeway. 

After seeing that the aeroplane was carefully stored 
away in a corner of the hotel yard, Mike and I retired 
to our room until lunch. Mike was in splendid humor, 
and he had every reason to be. Our aeroplane trip 
was a success. We had conquered the Irish air. An 
Irish heiress is still more difficult to conquer, but it is 
wonderful what one can do in the Irish atmosphere. 




w 



CHAPTER X 

OUR REST ON THE ANTRIM COAST 

HEN we came down to the noon lunch at 
the hotel, we met Miss O'Neill and a fine- 
looking, elderly gentleman and lady, whom 
she at once introduced as her parents. 

Mr. O'Neill was very cordial, and invited us to sit 
at their table. In some way I managed to monopolize 
both Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill, leaving Mike out in the cold 
with Miss O'Neill. However, I don't think he minded 
it in the least, as both he and the fair Irish girl seemed 
to get on good terms at once. I w^as surprised at Mike. 
I had never known him before tO' take an interest in any 
girl. He always had avoided the young ladies as long 
as I had known him. I think it must have been the 
Irish atmo'Sphere. 

After lunch Mr. O'Neill and I went for a walk 
over the Causeway. Mrs. O'Neill took an afternoon 
nap, and so Mike and Miss Edith were left alone to'gether 
again. 

One reason why Mike capitulated so easily to the 
charms of this fair Irish maiden was that she liad been 
an ardent student of aeronautics, and was even ambitious 
to fly herself. 

During the afternoon Mr. O'Neill showed me the 
wonders of the Giant's Causewav. It is no' wonder that 



74 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

this unique phenomenon in geology is so far-famed. A 
stream' of lava, 2600 feet wide, and fifteen miles long, 
instead of forming the usual basaltic rock when it had 
cooled, formed itself into detached columns, from six to 
thirty feet long, and from eig'ht to twenty-four inches 
in diameter. These strange columns, mostly pentagonal 
or hexagonal in formatiou, present a smooth surface in 
three parallel terraces along this Antrim coast and make 
the most remarkable natural pavement ever seen by the 
eyes of man. There are forty thousand of these columns, 
and every one of them is a perfect geometrical figure. 
The columns are soi close together that water will not 
pass between them, and yet each is separate. 

"With skill so like, yet so surpassing art; 
With such design, so just in every part. 
That reason ponders, doubtly if it stand 
The work of mortal or immortal hand." 

As we walked over this marvelous piece of rock 
formation, Mr. O'Neill told me the legend of Finn 
McCool, and how he built the Causeway over tO' Scot- 
land, in order to provide a way for Ben Donner toi come 
over toi Ireland to accept his challenge. Ben was the 
champion of Scotland, as Finn was in Ireland, and Finn 
was determined tO' see which was the better man. In 
the contest Finn was victorious, and as there was no 
further use for this strange roadway across the sea, most 
otf it had been swept away, but a little was left on the 
Antrim coast, a relic of F'inn's remarkable handiwork. 

Science attempts to explain the Causeway by saying 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 75 

that, when the rock was in a fluid state, crystaHzation 
set in, and produced the phenomenon. It is claimed that 
the PaHsades of the Hudson are a somewhat similar 
formation. On account of the fact that rocks do not 
naturally crystalize, however, the Causeway still remains 
the puzzle of the scientist. 

The scenery along the coast near the Causeway is 
sublime, and there is a walk along the face of the cliff, 
which I found almost as dangerous as aeroplaning. 
I found Mr. 0''Neill a charming comp^anion, and I 
thoroughly enjoyed his society. After we had talked 
of the Causew^ay, our conversation drifted to the subject 
of Ireland's history. Naturally, this was a subject dear 
to his heart. He gave me a brief epitome of Irish 
history which was new to me. Irish history begins with 
St. Patrick in the fifth century of our era. St. Patrick 
evangelized the Irish, and, as a result of his labors, 
Ireland was the land of saints and scholars during the 
period between the sixth and tenth centuries. The 
Danes, who settled around the coasts of Ireland, broke 
up this peaceful prosperity. Schools were demolished 
and the students scattered. Brian Boru brought back 
a brief period of glory to Irish history by uniting the 
Irish under his able sway. He defeated the Danes in a 
decisive battle at Clontarf, near Dublin, in 1014, but he 
lost his life at the close of that fatal day. Ireland was 
left rudderless again. The petty chiefs quarrelled 
•amo'Ugst themselves, and in 11 70 the English came over 
and claimed Ireland. The struggles of the Irish for 



76 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

political freedom have been pathetic. The native Irish 
were often treated as the Indians were by the white men 
in America, but with this vital exception. In America 
the Indian quietly died out, and gave not trouble. In 
Ireland, the Irish lived, multiplied, and filled Ireland with 
Irishmen. The real estate deals made in Irish land by 
several of England's rulers left a bad taste in the mouths 
of the Irish. In 1641, taking advantage of England's 
Civil War, the Irish rose against the English and Scotch 
colonists in Ireland with terrible fury. In 1649 Crom- 
well reduced Ireland again to English rule, treating the 
natives with savage ferocity. Another rebellion arose 
in 1689, when James II. was driven from the English 
throne by William III. James came to Ireland and the 
Irish rose in his favor. William III. again conquered 
the Irish. Thus the history has gone on. Laws of fear- 
ful severity were enacted, and the native Irish, for almost 
a century, were outcasts in the land of their forefathers. 

Mr. O'Neill was a great admirer of Daniel O'Con- 
nell. He told me that a new era began for Ireland when 
Daniel O'Connell, with the assistance of English states- 
men, took off some of Ireland's heaviest burdens. ''I 
believe," said Mr. O'Neill, with great earnestness, ''that 
since Gladstone's time, England has been trying to do 
justice to Ireland." 

He assured me that the Irish had never acknowl- 
edged that England had conquered them. He told me 
about an English schoolboy who was asked to write an 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 77 

essay on the "Conquest of Ireland," and he began : "The 

Conquest of Ireland began in 1170, and is still going 

on." 

I was much impressed with the way O'Neill recited 

to me the history of his country. Sometimes tears came 

into his eyes. He quoted, with much feeling, a few lines 

from an Irish poet : 

"Of old the harp of Innisfail 
Was turned to gladness. 
But, Oh ! how oft it's told a tale 
Of wide prevailing sadness." 

He expressed high hopes that Ireland's darkest days 
are past. He believes all Irishmen in Ireland today, the 
Protestant in the North and the Catholic in the South, 
should blot out the unhappy memories of the past 
centuries, and forget the mistakes of former times, and 
face the future, united in honest efforts for Ireland's 
welfare. 

As we walked along, while he told me all this, we 
suddenly came upon Mike and Edith at the Giant's 
Wishing Chair. This is a place where the columns of 
the Causeway are arranged something like a rude chair, 
and it is said if you sit in this ''chair," and wish, that 
your wish will come true. When we came on the scene 
Edith was sitting in the chair, wishing. Mike was 
standing by her side, evidently much amused. 

''What's your wish," Mike asked, after we had 
joined them. 

"I wished that I might fly tomorrow," she answered 
with a blush. Then, walking up to her father she said : 



78 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

"Oh, Papa, can I take a ride in the aeroplane with 
Mr. Connor tomorrow?" 

I saw Mr. Neill glance quickly at her flushed face, 
and then turn away with a sigh. She was his only child. 

''Why, why," he answered, ''\\'hat put such a notion 
as that in your head? Did you, sir?" and he looked 
accusingly at Mike. 

"No, sir," said Edith, before Mike could speak, 
"Mr. Connor never said a word to me about it." 

"We'll see tomorrow," said her father. 

"I think my wish will come true," I heard Miss 
O'Neill say to Mike, as they walked ahead of us up the 
rough road to the hotel. 

I did not hear Mike's reply but it seemed to please 
her immensely. 

I resumed my talk with Mr. O'Neill about Ireland. 
I asked him about recent land laws. I found him en- 
thusiastic about the Wyndham Act of 1903, providingi 
for the purchase of their farms by Irish tenants. 

"It means a new Ireland inside a generation," he 
earnestly exclaimed. He then went on to say that the 
Irish people as a whole, the native Celt, the descendants 
of the Scotch, English and French, were developing 
a distinctive modern Irish race, which would be able to 
hold its own in every department of life. This led 
him to speak of the Irish people in America, and I found 
he had followed the fortunes of his countrymen across 
the sea. He was delighted when I told him that Mike 
and I were Irish Yankees. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 79 

"County Antrim ought to be a sacred place to yoii," 
he said to me, "for two of your great Presidents traced 
their ancestory to Antrim." He went on to tell me that 
President Jackson's father sailed from Carrickfergus, 
near Belfast, in 1765, going to North Carolina. He also 
told me that the great-great-grandfather of President 
McKinley emigrated from Conagher, County Antrim, 
in 1743. He had himself seen the old McKinley home- 
stead. Mr. O'Neill and I were on such good terms of 
real friendship that very evening, that I could hardly 
believe it possible I had only met him that day. I believe 
it was the Irish atmosphere. 



CHAPTER XI 

A FLIGHT IN AN AEROPLANE WITH AN IRISH GIRL 

^^ EXT morning at breakfast Miss O'Neill 
N^mT again asked her father's permission to as- 
(Cj i3i cend in the aeroplane with Mike. I assured 

^^^^^^^ him that if Mike promised to go over land 
there was absolutely no danger, for, as I put it: ''Mr. 
Connor can alight as easily as a crow." 

"But what if he were to alight on a tree?" he asked 
with a twinkle in his eye, which showed me that Mike 
and Miss O'Neill were going to fly together all right. 

At last, the father gave his consent, l)ut warned 
Mike not to go out over the sea. It was arranged that 
they should ascend at io:oo o'clock. ' 

Mike had to make a trip to Portrush to get some 
petrol, and he decided to take Miss O'Neill along with 
him on that journey. 

''Can she take such a long trip on her first flight?'" 
I asked, remembering my own experiences. 

"Jack," said Mike, confidently, "she can beat you 
now as an aeronaut. She knows all about it already. 
I am sure she will have no trouble." 

We fixed- up a starting rail in the sloping field in 
front of the hotel, and at io:oo o'clock Miss Edith 
and her father and mother appeared. 

Word had gotten out about the trip and every tour- 



I 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 81 

ist around the Causeway was gathered in the field to 
see the ascent. 

Edith was a perfect picture. Not having an air- 
ship dress, she had arranged herself in closely fitting 
riding habit. She made a few necessary changes, and 
the dress was adapted well for her unique excursion. 
She wore a blue sailor cap, matching her dress, and also 
a pair of blue gloves. 

As Mike was assisting her into the aeroplane, I 
heard a lady exclaim, "What a pretty blue-bird." I could 
net help thinking that a fairer bird than Miss Edith 
ne\'er flew beneath the kindly Irish skies. 

It was a perfect day, and there was a very sliglit 
breeze. 

After seeing that Edith was seated, Mike vaulted 
easily into his seat. 

"All ready," he shouted, as he started the motor.. 
"Goodbye," said Edith to us all, as the aeroplane started. 

It rose beautifully and after ascending about 75 
feet, Mike circled around us. We could see Edith wav- 
ing her handkerchief. I was surprised at her composure. 
After making one circle, Mike started off, like a huge 
bird, for Portrush. We watched the airship until it 
became a speck in the distance. Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill 
walked back with me to the hotel and I had to earnestly 
assure Edith's mother that her daughter was in safe 
hands. 

Juse before noon I heard a shout, "They're coming 
back." 



82 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

I rushed out of the hotel and saw tlie aeroplane 
about a half a mile off, bearing down on us with all 
speed. When they came nearer I saw them rise, and I 
knew Mike was going to circle. He went up to a height 
of fully 400 feet, and circled around over the hotel 
three times. In making the third circle, he went out 
far over the sea. 

The descent was made without difficulty, and the 
aeroplane touched the ground without a perceptible jar. 

Edith jumped out before Mike could descend to 
help her, and before I reached the aeroplane. She ran 
at once to her mother and kissed her. 

''Edith, child," said her mother, with tears in her 
eyes, "you must not go flying again." 

"Oh, Mamma," said the happy girl, "it was grand 
I never, never enjoyed anything like it." 

"You rascal," said Mr. O'Neill, smiling, to Mike, 
"I thought you promised to keep off the sea." 

"I made him do it," said Edith, hastily. "He didn't 
want to, but I wanted to f\y above the water." 

Mike hung his head. Mike was always proud of 
keeping his word. It was the atmosphere again. It 
changed Mike. 

Edith cheered him by going to him with outstretch- 
ed hand, and saying in her sweet, musical voice : "Thank 
you ever so much, Mr. Connor." 

Mike's face brightened and he took off his cap 
gallantly, saying: "The pleasure was mine. Miss O'Neill." 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 83 

After Edith and her parents were gone I asked 
Mike about the flight. 

''Capital, Jack, capital," Mike said with enthusiasm', 
^'l tell you Jack, there are few girls like Edith." 

I noticed that he had unconsciously used her first 
name. 

He then gave me some details of the flight. On 
the return trip, they had paused to circle around Dunluce 
Castle, and then they had followed the electric railway 
to the Causeway. This electric railway from Portrush to 
the Causeway was the first electric railroad that was suc- 
cessfully operated in the world. It was built in 1883, be- 
ing designed by Sir William Siemens. Formerly it was 
operated with the third rail, but now it is an overhead 
trolley. As they were flying along this railroad, about 
40 feet high, they overtook a crowded car. When the 
astonished passengers saw them fly past, their enthus- 
iasm knew^ no bounds. Edith enjoyed the greeting and 
waved her handkerchief in return. 

Mike wanted to remain a few days longer at the 
Causeway, but when I told him that Mr. O'Neill had 
told me he was called back to Dublin the next day, and 
that his family would accompany him, he decided to 
start the next day himself. 

As we bade the O'Neills goodbye, they gave us a 
cordial invitation to call on them in Dublin. I was 
delighted with the invitation, and so was Mike, but 
for a different reason. I was glad because I knew Mr. 
O'Neill would show us the places of historic interest in 



84 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

Ireland's capital city, and I was anxious tO' see a real 
Irish home. Mike confided tO' me that he had already 
arranged to take Miss Edith for a flight over Dublin. 

Immediately after breakfast we started. A big 
crowd cheered us as the areoplane rose. As we circled 
around over the crowd, I could see Miss Edith's hand- 
kerchief waving us a farewell. 

We sailed along the coast from the Causeway to- 
wards Ballycastle, 13 miles away. It was as fine a 
coast as I have ever seen, excepting along County Clare. 
We passed over several old ruins, and saw the famous 
Carrick-a-Rede Bridge. Carrick-a-Rede, wdiich means the 
Rock in the Track, is a gigantic rock, separated from 
the mainland by a deep channel, sixty feet wdde. Fish- 
ermen use the rock from March to October, and a bridge 
has been constructed of cables between the rock and the 
mainland. This swinging bridge is fully 80 feet above 
the water. As you cross it, the bridge bends and sways,, 
but the natives cross it continually, often carrying heavy 
burdens. 

We flew over Ballycastle, a clean-looking little 
fishing village, making great excitement amongst the vil- 
lagers. It was nine o'clock when we sailed over the 
town. There is coal in this vicinity, but it has been 
properly worked. 

In the distance we could see Fair Head towering 
over the Sea. Near Fair Head is Torr Head, which is 
only twelve and a half miles from the coast of Scotland. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 85 



This is the shortest distance between the two countries. 
We could see the Mull of Canty re very clearly. 

After passing Ballycastle, we flew over a surpris- 
ingly beautiful region around Cushendal. Mike was 
now taking more interest in the Irish scenery and I re- 
marked that he had just begun to appreciate the beauty 
■of Ireland. We found Glen Ariff bathed in sunshine, 
its innumerable waterfalls glistening in the light of the 
sunbeams. This is a place of rare beauty. As we passed 
Larne we could see the excited inhabitants climbinsf 
on the walls and roofs to get a better view of the mon- 
ster bird, as our airship looked to be from land. 

Larne has a good harbor protected by a curious, 
curving headland. Mail steamers leave here for Stran- 
raer across the channel, thirty-nine miles. The crossing 
is made in two hours. This is the shortest crossing 
between Ireland and Scotland. There is talk of running 
an underground railway over to Scotland from some- 
where near here. 

It was at Larne that Edward Bruce, a brother of 
the famed Robert Bruce of vScotland, landed in 13 15, in 
an ill-fated expedition which he made to Ireland. 

A little later we came to Carrickfergus, where An- 
drew Jackson's father used to live. It is ten miles from 
Belfast, and in former years was a place of greater im- 
portance than its neighbor. 

There is an old castle at Carrickfergus, built in 
1 1 78, which still defies the ravages of time. It is built 
on a huge rock, projecting thirty feet out of Belfast 



86 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

Lough, and is a splendid example of a Norman fortress. 
There are walls in the ruins ninety feet high and nine 
feet thick. 

William III. landed at Carrickfergus in 1690, on 
his way to the Battle of the Boyne. 

We could now see the smoke of Belfast, the Chi- 
cago of Ireland. Overlooking it is Cave Hill, a lofty 
mound, back of the city. As we swept over this great 
metropolis, we rose to a height of 400 feet, so as to get 
the best possible view of the busy hive of industry. Tall 
chimneys sent out smoke. Huge shipyards covered 
acres and acres, houses extended almost as far as the 
eye could reach. Church spires pierced the sky in every 
direction. 

As I looked down on Belfast that summer morning, 
it looked like a model city. Its magnificent business 
streets, and noble city hall, are in keeping with its fame 
and enterprise. 

Passing directly over it, Mike brought the aero- 
plane to the ground on a level place near the foot of 
Cave Hill. 



CHAPTER XII 

OVER AND AROUND BELFAST 

T was almost 1 1 :oo o'clock when we alit 
^jl r^ at the foot of Cave Hill. Leaving our air- 
^ Oj ship in charge of an astonished Irishman, 

whose house was near by, we took a street 
car down town, and had lunch at the Y. M. C. A. cafe. 
Evidently our flight over the city had been ob- 
served by many, as we heard a good deal of conver- 
sation about the ''airship." 

We came back to Cave Hill about noon, and I found 
a great crowd around the aeroplane. Getting a starting 
rail, Mike prepared to ascend as quickly as possible. 
Just as we were about ready to start, I saw a young man 
edge his way through the crowd, with a note book in 
one hand and a pencil in the other. I recognized him 
at once as a reporter, seeking an interview. Before he 
came close enough to hear, I said to Mike : ''Hurry up, 
hurry up. I see a newspaper man." 

If I had told Mike I had seen his Satanic Majesty, 
he could not have hurried his final preparations more, 
as he has a horror of the "interviewer," and we were 
determined to escape them while in Ireland. 

When the reporter reached my side, he began .^-at 
once: "I represent the Whig, the Belfast Whig. We' 
want an account of this airship, if you please. What are 



88 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

your names? Where did you come from?" Before he 
could ask any more questions, Mike shouted loudly to 
me: "All aboard." 

I was glad to leap into my seat. Without another 
word, Mike vaulted into his place, started the motor, 
and before the astonished reporter could get out another 
word, we were sailing in the air. 

The big crowd cheered and clapped their hands, as 
we rose gracefully towards Cave Hill. Ascending to the 
very summit of this hill, Mike turned the aeroplane in 
one of his familiar circles, and we made another Vv^'de 
sweep over Belfast. Below us we could see Belfast Cas- 
tle. The Earl of Shaftesbury, grandson of the famous 
philanthropist, lives in this Castle, which is a modern 
mansion, as everything is around Belfast. The Earl 
has inherited some of the sterling qualities of his illus- 
trious grandfather, and is a public spirited citizen. He 
was elected Lord Mayor of Belfast in 1907. Belfast 
is a remarkable city, different from any other city in 
Ireland. It practically came on the map in the 17th 
century, when it first became a centre for the export 
of linen in a small way. 

As it is located at the junction of Down and Antrim 
two Presbyterian Counties, Belfast has always been a 
Presbyterian stronghold. There are upwards of 60 
pi'osperous Presbyterian churches in the city today, and 
the Presbyterian Assembly Hall is one of the largest 
and most beautiful buildings in the North of Ireland. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 89 

One hundred years ago Belfast had a population 
of less than 20,000. Today it has nearly 400,000. Its 
wealth has doubled six times in the last 25 years. 

Belfast owes its prosperity to the linen trade. This 
industry alone now amounts to sixty million dollars a 
year. The largest mill, which I could easily distinguish, 
covers five acres, with 6000 spindles, 1000 looms and 
more than 4000 emplo}'ees. 

There are also extensive machine shops, and its 
ship yards build the largest ocean liners afloat. 

Here also are manufactured agricultural imple- 
ments, "soft drinks" of all kinds, and machinery of every 
sort. 

Its situation on Belfast Lough, at the mouth of the 
Lagan is picturesque, and, taken altogether, Belfast is 
one of the finest cities in Europe. Leaving it behind us 
we sailed due south, in the direction of Downpatrick, 
where St. Patrick is buried. 

As we crossed County Down, we admired again the 
thrifty farm-houses, well-tilled farms, and the little 
fields, green with potatoes and turnips, or waving with 
flax and oats. 

In less than half an hour Downpatrick came in 
sight. We flew over the beautiful Gothic Down Cathe- 
dral, in the churchyard of which St. Patrick lies buried. 
Here also lies buried St. Bridget and St. Columba, two 
■other noble characters in Ireland's religious history. 

St. Patrick was born in Scotland about the year 
387. When he was sixteen years old, he was taken a 



90 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

captive, and sold as a slave to an Irishman, for whom he 
herded sheep and swine in County Antrim. 

While a slave, he became a devout Christian, and 
made his escape when he was twenty-two years old. He 
entered a monastic school in France, and fitted himself 
as a Missionary to Ireland. At that time the Irish wor- 
shipped at Druid altars. 

Landing at the mouth of the Slaney in County 
Down, he settled in Downpatrick. He remained here 
several years and then visited all parts of the island, 
meeting with marvelous success. In 457 he settled in 
Armagh and lived there for eight years. 

While visiting in Downpatrick in his 78th year, he 
was seized with a fatal illness, and died at the scene of 
early labors. Here he was buried. 

St. Bridget was born near Armagh about 453. She 
was rich and beautiful, but became a convert to Chris- 
tianity, and devoted her life to missionary labors 
amongst the Irish. She died in 525, and was first buried 
at Kildare. Her remains and those of St. Columba 
were brought to Downpatrick in 1185. St. Patrick made 
the shamrock the national flower of Ireland l)y teaching 
from its three petals the doctrine of the Trinity. 

Turning west from Downpatrick, Mike and I fol- 
lowed in the air St. Patrick's footsteps to Armagh. Be- 
fore entering County Armagh, we crossed over a pretty 
village, called Banbridge. County Armagh resembles 
County Down in its general appearance. It was a beau- 
tiful picture of rural quietude. It was after two o'clock 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 91 

when we caught our first ghmpse of the famous Irish 
city of Armagh. 

This is Ireland's most sacred city. Two Primates 
of Ireland live here, and here are two Archbishops, and 
two magnificent Cathedrals. Armagh is a well-built 
town of some 8,000 inhabitants. It is built partly on a 
hill, which makes some of its streets quite steep. A 
Cathedral was founded liere by St. Patrick in 432. His 
Eminence, Cardinal Logue, an able and learned divine, 
is the Roman Catholic Primate, while Dr. Alexander is 
the Protestant Primate of the island The ecclesias- 
tical head of the Presbyterian Church is called the 
Moderator, and is elected every year. 

We sailed over the beautiful grounds of Dr. Alex- 
ander's Palace, and were reminded of his gifted wife, 
who wrote : 

"There is a ^reen hill tar away, 

Outside a city wall 
Where the dear Lord was crucified, 

Who died to save us all." 

Mrs. Alexander died in 1895. Another well known 
poem of hers is ''The Burial of Moses." 

There are three prosperous and growing Presby- 
terian churches in Armagh. Dr. John Hall, who after- 
wards became one of the foremost preachers in America, 
was pastor of one of these Presbyterian churches for a 
time, and laid the foundation of his future fame in this 
city. There is a vigorous Methodist church, which is 
also active in promoting the Christian faith. 



92 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

Armagh is rich in historic memories. As I circled 
over its steep and winding streets that day with Mike, 
I thought of all the scenes enacted on the soil beneath. 

Here St. Patrick lived. Here a great educational 
institution flourished more than 1200 years ago. As 
many as 7000 students gathered in this place at one time 
to attend its far-famed University. 

The bleeding body of Brian Boru was reverently 
carried here, after the fatal day at Clontarf in 1014. In 
the stirring years of the O'Neills, Armagh saw many ex- 
citing scenes. But all was quiet and peaceful on that 
lovely summer day, as we circled over the sacred city, 
and flew south toward Newry. 




CHAPTER XIII 

ALIGHTING IN DROGHEDA 
^^""^^/T? N our way from Armagh to Newry, we saw 
^\ W the Newry Canal. This Httle piece of en- 
JJ gineering work was completed shortly before 
-^^ the railroads came to make it useless. 
Newry is a prosperous place, but not noted much 
in history. The Newryites gazed at us in wonder, as 
we whirled directly over their town towards Warren- 
point. Warrenpoint is a handsome seaside resort at the 
head of Carlingford Bay. We kept to the east side of 
the Bay until we reached Rosstrevor. This beautiful vil- 
lage has a back-ground of wooded hills, and many hand- 
some villas are in its neighborhood. The village is own- 
ed by Sir John Ross-of-Blandensburg. A large obelisk 
in an elevated place tells why the name of the owner is 
"Ross of Blandensburg." This obelisk is in honor of 
General Ross, grandfather of Sir John, and the inscrip- 
tion reads as follows : 

The Officers of a Grateful Army 
Which under the command of the lamented Major Gen- 
eral Robert Ross 
Attacked and defeated the American forces at Blandens- 
burg on the 24th of August, 18 14. 
aud on the same day 
Victoriously entered Washington, the Capital of the 

United States 
Inscribe upon this tablet their admiration of his profes- 
sional skill and their esteem for his amiable 
private character. 



94 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

As I pointed out the obelisk to Mike and told him 
of this inscription, he was greatly amused. 

From Rosstrevor we crossed the little bay to Carl- 
ingford, another picturesque village, and shortly after- 
wards sighted Dundalk. 

"What time is it?" asked Mike. 

I looked at my watch and answered : 

'Ten minutes to three." 

''Let us alight here," said Mike. "My wings are 
tired." 

We came down in a field just outside of the town. 
It was the worst landing Mike made. We alit on one 
runner of the aeroplane, and got a severe jar, but, for- 
tunately, no damage was done. 

After an hour's rest and a walk around town, we 
sailed on to Drogheda, where we expected to spend the 
night. 

If we had been Theodore Roosevelt himself, or even 
Edward VII., we could not have attracted more atten- 
tion and honor from the people of the country than we 
did that afternoon between Dundalk and Drogheda. 
Mike made a superb landing at Drogheda. We alit be- 
side a two-storied house on the edge of town, creat- 
ing a sensation. Some children, near the door, saw us 
swooping down, and ran, screaming into the house. 
Just as we were landing a woman ran out and as she saw 
the aeroplane alight, she uttered a shriek, as though she 
had seen a ghost. 

Presently a man came running, and we introduced 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 95 



ourselves. Leaving the aeroplane with him and the 
gathering crowd, we went to a hotel. I was interested 
in Drogheda, on account of its historic siege by Oliver 
Cromwell in 1649. We saw two of the old towers stand- 
ing, just as they were left after the siege. 

Oliver Cromwell is as unpopular in Ireland as the 
Duke of Alva in the Netherlands, and when we read his 
report of his doings at this city we were not surprised. 
Here is what he wrote from Drogheda in reporting to 
Parliament : 

''Divers of the enemy retreated to the Milmount, a 
place very strong and of difficult access, being exceed- 
ingly high, having a good graft, and strongly palisadoed. 
The Governor, Sir Arthur Aston, and divers consider- 
able officers being there, our men getting up to them, 
were ordered by me to put them all to the sword. And,' 
indeed, being in the heat of action, I forbade them to 
spare any that were in arms in the town; and I think 
that night they put to the sword about 2000 men . Then 
our horse and foot followed them so fast over the bridge, 
which goes over a broad river; and being very long and 
houses on both sides, yet they had not time to pull up 
their draw bridge, that our men fell violentlv upon them, 
and I believe there were 2000 of them put to the sword! 
Divers of the officers and soldiers being fled over the 
bridge into the other parts of the town, where about 100 
of them possessed St. Peters church-steeple, some the 
West Gate, others a strong round tower next the o-ate 
called St. Sundays. These being summoned to yield to 
mercy refused, whereupon I ordered the steeple of St. 
Peters to be fired, when one of them was heard to say in 
the midst of the flames, ^God confound me, I buni'l I 
burn !' 



96 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

'The next day the two other towers were summoned, 
in one of which w^as about six or seven score, but they 
refused to yield themselves; and we, knowing that hun- 
ger must compel them, set only good guards to secvn*e 
them from running away until their stomachs w^ere come 
down. From one of the said towers, notwithstanding 
their condition, they killed and wounded some of our 
men. When thev submitted, their officers WERE 
KNOCKED ON THE HEAD, and every tenth man of 
the soldiers killed, and the rest shipped for the Bar- 
badoes." 

After writing this gentle epistle, Oliver continues : 

'T am persuaded that tliis is a righteous judgment 
of God upon these barbarous wretches, who have em- 
brued their hands in so much innocent blood, and that 
it will tend to prevent the effusion of blood, for the fu- 
ture, which are the satisfactory grounds for such actions, 
which otherwise cannot but work remorse and regret." 

After viewing Drogheda, we hired a jaunting car, 
and visited the ruins of Monasterboice, some six miles 
from town. This monastery was founded by St. Patrick. 
Eight or nine centuries ago, thousands of students gath- 
ered here every year. There are two small churches 
left still standing, evidently of great age. Our driver 
told us that the big round tower there was looo years 
old. The finest relics of the past here are three large 
Celtic Crosses, the largest being 27 feet in height. One 
of them is badly damaged, and, of course, the damage 
is attributed to Cromwell. 

Our driver was a talkative fellow and entertained 
us with all kinds of stories about the country. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 97 

"I always tell folks," he said to Mike, "all that I 
know, but begorra, I keep the rest to myself." 

He got a good laugh on Mike when he told us some 
history which Mike deemed ridiculous. 

''Do you think I'm a fool to tell me that," said 
Mike. 

"Sure, I don't know, sor," answered the driver 
solemnly, "I only met you this evening." 

This driver had a son in America, as a good many 
Irish fathers ha^'e. These Irish boys go out to America 
with very little that they own except their names, but 
they soon begin to make remittances home, and in thous- 
ands of Irish homes the regular remittances from faitl'i- 
ful sons and daughters in America are depended on as-, 
part of the means of livelihood. 

The river which Cromwell refers to in his dis- 
patches, on which Drogheda is built, is the Boyne river.. 
Three miles from Drogheda, on the banks of the Boyne,, 
the armies of William III. and James II. met in battle. 
This was the battle that sealed the fate of King James,, 
and it is said he showed a little too much anxiety for his 
royal person on this occasion to w4n much renown as a 
soldier. The battle was fought on July 12th, 1690. A 
huge obelisk now marks the field of conflict. 

The Boyne is a beautiful stream, richly wooded, 
with many villas adorning its banks. This part of Ire- 
land is ''soggy," as Mike expressed it, with historic 
memories. The next day we lioped to fly over Tara, the 
ancient Capital of the Green Isle, and with pleasant an- 
ticipations, we retired for the night. 




CHAPTER XIV 

WITH FRIENDS IN DUBLIN 

ARLY next morning we ascended from 
Drogheda, and followed the valley of the 
Boyne for several miles. Then turning 
south, we flew over County Meath, on a 
straight way to Tara, the ancient Capital of Ireland. 

County Meath is one of the most fertile spots in 
Europe. Its rich greenness is proverbial. Large pastur- 
ages, though not profitable to the peasants, add to the 
beauty of the landscape. 

'T say. Jack," said Mike, after we had been gazing 
in silence at the fields as they glided under us, 'T am fall- 
ing in love with Ireland." 

''Mike;" I said solemnly, 'Vou mean that you are 
falling in love with the Irish. I think it is because we 
are getting near Dublin you are feeling that way." 

''We'll get to Dublin bright and early at this rate," 
said Mike evasively. I fancied I could see Mike become 
more and more lively as we approached the neighbor- 
hood of Dublin. 

As we saw Tara with its little cluster of Irish cot- 
tages, I felt a sense of disappointment, but when we cir- 
cled over the famous hill, I let my imagination supply 
what was wanting. I re-peopled the green mounds with 
Druid priests and Irish Kings. I imagined coronation 
scenes, and vast armies filling the plains. These used to 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 99 

be realities in Tara, but all is changed now. An air of 
loneliness pervades the very atmosphere. Even the 
''Stone of Destiny," fabled as Jacob's Pillow at Bethel, 
is gone. It was carried to Scotland centuries ago, and 
later taken to London, where it can be seen as the seat 
of the coronation chair in Westminster Abbey. We saw 
the Statue of St. Patrick, at which many a rude joke is 
made. From our aerial viewpoint we could not see it 
distinctly, but it is said to be a fair work of art for a 
stone cutter to accomplish. St. Patrick often preached 
at Tara, and a shaft here in his honor would be most 
appropriate. 

Daniel O'Connell on one occasion drew a cjuarter of 
a million of people to Tara in 1844, when he held a great 
two days' political meeting and gave two brilliant ad- 
dresses. 

Tara is not marked by any marble obelisk to re- 
count its former glories, but it will be held in memory 
wdiile time lasts on account of Thomas Moore's world- 
famed ballad : 

"The Harp that once through Tara's Halls 

The soul of music shed 
Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls. 

As if that soul were fled. 
So sleeps the pride of former days, 

So glory's thrill is o'er. 
So hearts that once beat high for praise 

Now feel that pulse no more. 

"No more to chiefs and ladies bright 

The harp of Tara swells; 
The chord alone that breaks at night 

Its tale of ruin tells. 



100 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes. 

The only throb she gives 
Is when some heart indignant breaks 

To show that she still lives." 

^'Farewell to Tara's Halls," I said, as we swept on 
south. 

As we fled over Ireland we astonished the Irish 
people, but we also astonished the denizens of the 
air. The birds seemed unable to understand what 
kind of a monster was invading their element. x-Xs we 
passed over rookeries, where the crows had their nests 
in large flocks, the cawing of the frightened crows was 
tremendous. The little sparrows chirped around us. 
with their chatter. We saw many magpies, robins, 
blackbirds and thrushes. There was one bird in Ireland 
I learned to love, the meadow lark. It would spring 
from the ground singing as it rose, until it was lost 
in the clouds, but its sweet notes could still be heard. 

Less than half an hour after leaving Tara, we ar- 
rived at Maynooth, which is located just 12 miles west 
of Dublin. Maynooth is celebrated as the seat of May- 
nooth College, the chief Roman Catholic educational 
center in modern Ireland. A College was established in 
Maynooth as early as 15 13, but the present institution 
dates back only to 1795. At that time it was re-organiz- 
ed and established with Government grants. 

Three-fourths of the priests in Ireland have been 
educated fiere, and the standard of the college is high 
amongst the Catholic institutions of Europe. About 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 



101 



150 complete their education every year, and take their 
place as the spiritual leaders of the Catholic population 
of the Island. Until the establishment of Maynooth Col- 
lege, the Irish priests were educated generally in France. 
Maynooth is noted amongst all classes in Ireland as a 
-center for temperance reform, and it is claimed that fully 
three-fourths of the priests from Maynooth are pledged 
abstainers, and ardent temperance workers. The Col- 
lege has a large, spacious campus, and adequate build- 
ings, and has an attendance of about 500 students. 

The massive ruins of Maynooth Castle stand at the 
gateway of the College. There is another interesting 
ruin in the vicinity, the Round' Tower, of Taghadoc, one 
of the largest of these Irish Round Towers. It stands a 
few miles south of Maynooth. 

We circled twice over the College, and were greet- 
ed with cheers by a company of the students who were 
w^alking on the campus. 

''Now for Dublin," said Mike, as he turned the 
aeroplane east. 

''Mike," I said, ''do you know why every Irishman 
ought to be rich?" 

"No," he answered, 'T ne^'er kncAv that was one of 
the duties of an Irishman." 

"Yes," I went on, ''every Irishman ouglit to be rich 
biecause the capital of the country has been "dublin" 
every yeRv for centuries." 

"That's a capital joke," said Mike laup-hino- 

As we were leaving Maynooth, I could see from 



102 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

my lofty seat the famous Carton House. In this lordly 
mansion lives one of the most favored of Irishmen, the 
Duke of Leinster. He has a whole bushel of titles, is 
worth millions of money and has the blood of a hundred 
Dukes and Earls in his veins. In spite of all this, he is 
not very robust in physical health, and it is said he has 
symptoms of tuberculosis. He is young and unmarried. 
He has several palatial residences, but Carton House is 
his favorite. It stands in a Park, enclosed by an eight 
mile lo foot wall, and in the Park are over thirty miles 
of macadamized driveways. His garden covers sixty 
acres. Queen Victoria was once the guest of this splen- 
did home, which is a royal palace itself. 

For a number of miles we followed the river Liffey^ 
and it was easy to tell we were nearing the Capital City. 
Beautiful villas dotted the landscape, and many of these 
homes were evidently abodes of wealth and culture. 

As we came nearer, we rose in the air until we were 
fully 600 feet high. From this lofty elevation I could 
see the great city of Dublin, stretching to the sea, and 
reaching out on both sides along Dublin Bay. Mr. 
O'Neill had described his home to us so clearly that we 
had no difficulty m finding it. He lived south of Dublin, 
near Blackrock, not far from the seaside. 

We followed the river Liffey as we passed through 
the center of the city. To our left we saw Phoenix 
Park on the western outskirts. We passed Four Courts,, 
a massive Government building. We could see the 
famed Dublin Castle, south of the river, and further on 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 103 

Trinity College with its large campus in the middle of 
the city. 

Passing over Trinity College Park, we began to 
scan the landscape for Mr. O'Neill's residence. We 
could see that we attracted great attention from the pop- 
ulace and we saw thousands of upturned faces of as- 
tonished Dublinmen. Mike's quick eye discerned our 
landing place. The home of ''The" O'Neill, as we heard 
him called in Dublin, was in the center of a large park, 
with a tall wall circling it completely. In front of the 
noble mansion there was a large lawn, whicli made a 
good place to alight. 

It was only nine o'clock when we dismounted from 
our aeroplane at ''Shaneville," as the house was called. 
Mr. O'Neill and Miss Edith came out of the large front 
door, as we alit. 

"Yankee birds, Yankee birds," sang out the girl in 
gay greeting. 

''Welcome, gentlemen," said Mr. O'Neill, "welcome 
to 'Shaneville'." 

With genuine Irish cordiality he ushered us into his 
beautiful and richly-furnished home. 




CHAPTER XV 

GUESTS IN AN IRISH HOME 

IKE and I were glad to rest quietly all that 
day within the high walls that surrounded 
''Shaneville." Here we were safe from in- 
terviewers, curious people, and an excited 
populace. 

When aeroplaning is as common as motoring now 
is, it will be much more pleasant. Nowadays an aero- 
plane mr.kes as much excitement as a comet, and I ex- 
pect that even this record will read like a novel to some. 
There are people who might enjoy the notoriety whicli 
an aeroplane gives, but we were not anxious to get 
famous in that way. 

During our pleasant day at ''Shaneville," I renewed 
my conversation with Mr. O'Neill in regard to his na- 
tive land, and, in his library that afternoon we had a 
long talk again on Ireland. 

I noticed that the coat of arms of "Shaneville" was 
a red hand, with the cross of St. George, and I had re- 
marked that I saw that coat of arms somewhere before. 
Mr. O'Neill laughed heartily, and assured me he was 
confident I had seen it often. He told me that was the 
coat of arms of Ulster, now, and was seen everywhere 
in the North of Ireland. It was his family which gave 
Ulster this sign. Long centuries before when his ances- 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 105 

tors came over from Scotland to Ireland, the invaders 
agreed amongst tliemselves that whoever touched the 
shore of Ireland first with his hand would be King. An 
O'Neill amongst them, when the boat stranded on the 
beach, promptly drew his sharp sw^ord, and cut off his 
left hand and threw it high on the beach, and was at 
once hailed as King by the rest. Since that the O'Neill 
emblem has been a red hand. Mr. O'Neill related how 
his family held power from that time until the beginning 
of the 17th century, when a rebellion against England 
cost them their power and estates in Ulster. It w^as at 
this time that Ulster w^as colonized anew from Scotland. 

James I. confiscated nearly all Ulster, and partition- 
ed out the land to new^ settlers, mostly from Scotland. 
Although this act had meant the ruin of his house, I 
could see no bitterness in ONeill's voice as he spoke 
of this '^plantation of Ulster," as he called it. He said 
that these new settlers had made good, industrious citi- 
zens, and that Ulster was the most prosperous part of 
Ireland today. He spoke highly of the character of these 
Scotch-Irishmen, and added : 

''You know, sir, away back our own people came 
from Scotland." 

Still, I could see that O'Neill looked on these great 
real estate transfers by the kings of England as wrongs 
to the native Irish. 

O'Neill told me there were three reforms going on 
in Ireland in which he had hearty sympathy. These are 
the improvement of Irish agriculture, the revival of the 



106 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

Gaelic tongue, and the suppression of intemperance 
amongst the Irish people. 

''One splendid result of the agitation for these re- 
forms," he said earnestly, ''is that Irishmen are begin- 
ning to see that there is one Ireland after all. All creeds 
in Ireland are united in promoting these great reforms, 
and it is creating a national sentiment which is bringing 
all Irishmen into sympathy with each other." 

"Our curse has been," he continued, "that we have 
been divided so much amongst ourselves." 

I was surprised when he told me of the Govern- 
ment's present efforts to improve Irish agriculture. 
There is an Agricultural Department, which furnishes 
instructors on such subjects as improving of crops, and 
stock, butter and poultry. They also furnish seeds and 
fertilizers, and are doing a great deal in promoting 
prosperity in the backward parts of the island. Mr. 
O'Neill was enthusiastic about the Gaelic revival. 

"Why," he said, "they are even teaching Gaelic now 
in the National Schools of Ireland. In former times the 
use of the native tongue was discouraged in every way 
by the Government, but now teachers are being trained 
to teach it." 

I suggested to him that the Englisli was quite a use- 
ful language, since it was spoken in America, and so 
widely throughout the world. 

"We still expect to use English, of course," he ex- 
claimed. He then explained that the efforts of Douglas 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 107 



Hyde and his friends were to make the Irish a bi-Hngual 
people, just as the Welsh are. 

In speaking of the progress of this interesting re- 
vival of Gaelic in Ireland he gave me some facts. 

In 1 901 as many as 638,000 could speak Gaelic in 
Ireland, and the number is constantly increasing. All the 
churches in Ireland, Protestant, and Catholic, have en- 
dorsed the movement. There is a strong Gaelic League, 
which employs over a dozen lecturers and organizers, 
who promote the study of Gaelic all over the island. I 
was assured that even in America there was a strong 
branch of this Gaelic League, and Mr. O'Neill told me 
that Mr, Roosevelt had endorsed the w^ork highly. 

O'Neill was also deeply interested in the temperance 
reform. 

''Ireland," he said to me, ''has been a place where 
they have had too much good whisky and too much 
bad politics. These two things have ruined us." 

He spoke with much pride of the fact that scien- 
tific temperance instruction had been introduced into the 
National schools of Erin in 1905, and also told of the 
work that all the churches were doing. He was an ar- 
dent admirer of Father Mathew. 

"A real temperance apostle," he exclaimed, "one 
of God's best blessings to Ireland since the days of St. 
Patrick." 

He spoke cordially of the temperance leaders, and 
told me of the good work being done at Maynooth college 



08 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 



by the Faculty and the students. He said that America's 
eminent churchman, Archbishop Ireland, had helped the 
temperance cause in Ireland, which is his native land. 
He also mentioned Rev. John Macmillan, of Belfast, the 
temperance leader among the Presbyterians in Ireland, 
and said he was a noble temperance patriot. 

'These reforms," he repeated, ''are bringing us to- 
gether and giving a feeling of unity to Irishmen such 
as they have not had since the days of Brian Boru." 

I asked him what he thought of Ireland's relation to 
England. 

He paused a few moments before answering, and 
when he did reply it was in a low, quiet tone. 

''We must forget the past," he said, "if Ireland is 
to make progress. It is true that England has cruelly 
wronged Ireland. My own family has suffered in past 
generations, suffered shamefully. But the English 
Government of today is treating Ireland very differ- 
ently. Gladstone inaugurated a new era, through the 
efforts of Parnell, Redmond, and our modern Irish 
leaders. Today the English people, I believe, want Ire- 
land to have justice." 

I asked him what he thought of separation from 
England. He answered at once : "We cannot be separ- 
ated. God has placed the islands side by side. What we 
want is freedom to manage internal affairs, just as the 
States in America, just as Canada, Australia, and New 
Zealand. We want local-self government, but we must 
remain a part of the British Empire." 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 109 

He went on to tell me how the Irishmen had helped 
to build up the British Empire, and make it what it is 
today. 

'The present ambassador of the British Empire in 
Washington," he exclaimed, "is an Irishman." 

I was profoundly impressed with his views on this 
subject. I could see he was a man with wide sympathy 
and practical outlook, and believed in living for the fu- 
ture, rather than the past. He still had all the fire of 
the O'Neill blood in his veins, but it had been disciplined 
by generations of suffering. 

We had a happy time in the evening. There is no 
hospitality like the Irish hospitality. It is whole-hearted, 
cordial and sincere. 

Miss Edith delighted us with several Irish songs. 
She sang Moore's touching melody: "The Last Rose of 
Summer," with genuine pathos. Afterwards she began 
on American songs, and when she had sung several, I 
remarked that she sang like an American. 

She turned around on her piano stool and replied : 
"I have always admired America. Sometimes I tell my 
father that I believe that I was meant for an American 
woman." 

"Cross the ocean. Miss O'Neill," said Mike quickly, 
"and a thousand Americans will swear that you were 
meant for an American man." 

Edith blushed and turned again to the piano. 

"Tut, tut," said Mr. O'Neill to Mike, "you have 



110 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 



been kissing the Blarney Stone since you came to Ire- 
land." 

''It's the atmosphere," I remarked, ''Mr. Connor 
gets more like an Irishman every day." 

"Did you ever hear what the citizens of Dublin did 
when the Union of 1801 was agitated?" asked Mr. 
O'Neill. "They held an indignation meeting, and re- 
solved to burn everything that was imported from Eng- 
land, except coal." As we laughed heartily at this, Mr. 
O'Neill went on : "Our coachman made a curious re- 
mark to me today about you gentlemen and your aero- 
plane. He said you ought to feel proud of this trip you 
are making over Ireland in the air, for you are going 
zvhere the foot of riian never trod before." 

"This coachman amused me shortly after I first 
hired him. There is a bad hole back of the stable, and 
I forgot to say anything to him about it until I found 
he had fallen into it, and hurt himself severely. I told 
him I was sorry I had forgotten to tell him about it." 

"That's all right. Master," he replied, "I found it 
myself." 




CHAPTER XVI 

AROUND THE CAPITAL CITY OF IRELAND 

^^ HE next morning after breakfast, Mr. 
/ ^ rsS O'Neill drove his motor car in front of the 
(Tj i3) bouse, and Miss O'Neill, Mike and I joined 

^^^^^^ him for a day around Dublin. 

I took my seat beside Mr. O'Neill, and Mike and 
Edith sat together in the rear. 

We had a delightful day, and the memory of that 
trip around this interesting city will always be one of 
my happiest memories. 

Our first visit was Trinity College, wath its campus 
of 47 acres in the heart of Dublin. The main building, 
at the entrance, is a noble structure. We entered Exam- 
ination Hall, where many an Irish brain has been vio- 
lently cudgelled at examination time. There is a fine 
portrait hung on its walls of Queen Elizabeth, who 
founded Trinity. The chapel is a modest building. The 
Library is famed as containing Brian Boru's harp. It is 
said that this harp suggested to Moore his ode on Tara. 
Here we also saw the- ''Book of Kells", so called because 
it came from the Monastery at Kells. 

In this book the four gospels are written out w4th 
exquisite penmanship, on leaves embossed with gold, 
and beautifully illuminated. We doubt if there is a 
more beautiful book in the world. 



112 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

Coming- out of Trinity, Mr. O'Neill called our atten- 
tion to the statues of Edmund Burke and Oliver Gold- 
smith, which adorn the entrance. These are two of the 
most famous of Trinity's sons. 

Opposite the entrance to Trinity is the old Parlia- 
ment House, in which in former days the Irish Parlia- 
ment met. It is now used by the bank of Ireland. It 
was in this building that Grattan thundered his anathe- 
mas against the foes of Ireland. 

Dublin is a city of monuments. As Mr. O'Neill 
showed them to us, we began to have a better apprecia- 
tion of the number of eminent men whom Ireland has 
given to the world. 

High above tliem all, in the centre of the city, is 
a lofty pillar, 134 feet high, erected to the honor of the 
great English Admiral, Lord Nelson. From the base of 
Nelson's monument street cars start in all directions. 

Daniel O'Connell's monument is a fitting tribute 
to Ireland's great Liberator. It is 12 feet high and is 
surrounded by a number of smaller figures. There are 
also statues of the two great Irish Statesmen, remark- 
able for their patriotic eloquence, Henry Grattan, and 
John Philpot Curran. 

Mr. O'Neill also pointed out the statue to Eather 
Mathew, which stands in a central place. It is a noble 
work of art, done in marble, and is worthy of the Apos- 
tle of Temperance. Thomas Moore, the gifted poet, has 
been honored by his countrymen also, although his 
poems will keep his memory green as long as time lasts. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 113 

A statue to Charles Stewart Parnell is to be erected 
Mr. O'Neill told us. O'Neill has been a great admirer 
of Parnell, and the tragic close of his life grieved him 
much. 

We had a delightful time in Phoenix Park. This 
unrivalled combination of forest and meadow, flower- 
beds and fountains, driveways and lawns, covers 1700 
acres, and is a credit to Ireland. 

There is a statue of the Duke of Wellington, Ire- 
land's foremost soldier, in Phoenix Park. It is like 
Washington's Monument in Washington, except that it 
is only one-third as large. 

We visited the zoological gardens in the Park- 
Here we saw a marvelous collection of all kinds of ani- 
mals. 

As we went through the Monkey house, Mike said 
to Edith : 'Tn America some wise men think we sprang 
from monkeys." 

"The Irish didn't," she said gaily, *'we never sprang, 
from anybody. We sprang at them." 

As we laughed at her wit, Mike remarked : 

'T have always objected to having a monkey tied 
on to my family tree." 

Mr. O'Neill took us to the Viceregal lodge, which 
is in Phoenix Park, where the Lord Lieutenant of Ire- 
land lives in the summer time, and we had a brief aud- 
ience with His Excellency. He professed to be much 
pleased to see us, and was greatly interested In our 
aerial exploits in the Irish atmosphere. 



114 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

We also visited Dublin Castle, the center of Irish 
history for centuries. We saw there the tower in which 
Robert Emmet and Lord Edward Eitzgerald were con- 
fined, over a century ago, after their ill-fated rebellions. 
Oliver Cromwell resided in this castle for a time. Wil- 
liam III. visited it in 1690. The Castle is at present the 
scene of many gay social events during the winter 
months, when the Lord Lieutenant resides in it. 

Stephen's Green is an aristocratic suburb of twenty- 
two acres in the heart of Dublin. It is a big square, sur- 
rounded by the mansions of the rich and titled of Dub- 
lin's citizenship. 

We motored also a little to the south of Dublin 
and visited Clontarf, where the famous battle was fought 
on Good Friday in 1014 between the Irish and the 
Danes. In this battle Brian Boru was killed. Brian 
marched his army that day from Phoenix Park, where 
he was encamped, and defeated the Danes, but one of the 
fleeing Danish generals slew the aged Brian. 

There are two famed Cathedrals in Dublin. St. 
Patrick's Cathedral, where Dean Swift formerly preach- 
ed, is a fine cruciform church, in the early pointed 
style. In it there are monuments to both the Dean and 
'"Stella" his wife. This Cathedral was founded in 1190 
but had varied experiences in history. It was ''restored" 
in 1865, ^t a cost of over $800,000, by Sir Benjamin 
Guinness. 

The Roman Catholic Pro-Cathedral is in Marlbor- 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 115 

ough Street, and is built in Doric style. The magnificent 
altar is of white marble. The music in the services is 
■especially fine. 

We planned to leave Dublin the first of the next 
week and continue our way southward. We spent a 
quiet Sunday at ''Shaneville" attending divine services 
with the O'Neills. 

The next morning Edith obtained perniission from 
her father and mother to take her much anticipated flight 
over Dublin. The ascent was made at ten o'clock. 
Edith was dressed in a neat-fitting white dress, with 
white gloves and veil to match, when sl:e appeared on 
the lawn, ready to start. She looked so charming as she 
seated herself in the aeroplane, that I could not help 
exclaiming. 

"These Irish birds are rare creatures." 

"Watch the Irish dove and the American Eagle 
soar," said Mike, as he started the motor. We waved 
goodbye as the aeroplane rose in the air, and disappeared 
over the trees 

While they were gone Mr. O'Neill took me for a 
final stroll over his pleasant grounds. 

"I have never visited America," he told me, "but 
I am anxious to cross the Atlantic, and see your marvel- 
ous country. America holds the future." He expressed 
high admiration for the leaders in America, especially 
President Roosevelt and William Jennings Bryan. 

"I met Mr. Bryan a few years ago here in Dublin," 
lie said. "We were all delighted with him. He is a 



16 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 



great and good man. He told me there was Irish blood 
in his veins and he was proud of it. Mr. O'Neill also 
expressed the highest admiration for Abraham Lincoln, 
and called him a benefactor to all the w^orld. 

I cordially invited him to visit the land of the Stars 
and Stripes. 

In half an hour Edith and Mike returned. Mike 
circled over the house, in his usual way before lightings 
and then made a good landing just where he had started 
from. 

With her face flushed and happy, Edith stepped 
lightly to the grass. 

"Papa, papa," she cried, as Mr. O'Neill came for- 
ward to greet her, *'You must get an aeroplane." 

"My child," said her fond parent, "I am afraid this 
old bird has walked too long to learn to fly now." 

"What did you see?" I asked. 

"O, everything," she answered, "it was grand. We 
went away out as far as the Golf Grounds at Mala- 
hide, and all over Phoenix Park. Won't you come back 
again Mr. Connor," she said, turning to Mike who was 
standing beside his airship. 

Mike took off his cap and bowed. 

"I surely will," he said so emphatically, that the 
color came to Edith's cheeks. 

As I looked at them, already such cordial friends, 
and realized that they had never met until a few days 
before, I said to myself : 

"It's the Irish atmosphere." 




:a 



CHAPTER XVII 

WICKLOW, THE GARDEN OF IRELAND 

FTER dinner that day we bade our friends 
farewell. Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill were urgent 
in their invitation that we visit them again. 
"Goodbye/' said Edith to Mike. "I am 
very glad I have met you, and I thank you for the pleas- 
tux of flying with you." 

"Do not mention it," said Mike as he held her hand, 
^'You are such a brave aeronaut that I could fly with you 
anywhere." 

Edith blushed deeply as Mike's eyes spoke as well 
as his tongue. 

After we had ascended in tlie air, Mike circled 
around, like a carrier pigeon, and then sped off toward 
the south. 

As we entered County Wicklow, we left the sea- 
coast and crossed Wicklow about the middle of the 
County, passing over the Wicklow hills. 

This was the most exciting part of our entire trip. 

Wicklow has been called a miniature Switzerland, 
and it well deserves the name. There are over twenty 
mountains in this small space that exceed 2000 feet 
in height, and as they rise abruptly from the level, they 
seem even higher. 

Scattered among these hills, there are beautiful val- 



118 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

leys, magnificent mansions, villas, farms and Irish cot- 
tages. Much of the country is thickly wooded. The 
Woods of Shillelah are in Wicklow. * Here the best 
blackthorn, out of which Ireland's ancient weapon was 
made, used to grow, and the weapons were called "Shil- 
lelahs" from these woods. 

In order to see the grandeur of Wicklow to the best 
advantage, Mike and I threw discretion to the winds. 
The motor had been acting so well since we left County 
Derry, that we had full confidence in it now. 

''Let us go over the tops of the mountains," I said to 
Mike. 

He was glad to do this, and rose until we reached 
the dizzy height of 2500 feet. I would not advise aero- 
planists to seek this altitude until they are thoroughly ac- 
climated to life in the atmosphere. 

I had become somewhat hardened to aeroplaning,. 
but as I looked straight down sometimes into a deep 
valley, half a mile below me, I did not feel altogether 
at my ease. 

The view was magnificent. We passed over the 
Valley of Glendalough, between the mountains of Coom- 
aderry and Lugduff. In this dark valley, by the side of 
a lake, St. Kevin lived in an early day. His fear of 
womankind has been immortalized by Moore. Formerly 
in this valley there was a crowded city, and a great seat 
of learning, and many kings are buried in this vicinity. 

We saw here the ruins of the Seven Churches, and 
a Round Tower, said to date back to the 7th century. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 119 

As we entered the vale of Avoca, I remarked to 
Mike that Thomas Moore had touched Ireland with his 
genius, just as Sir Walter Scott threw a charm over 
Scotland. The vale of Avoca is best known by Moore's 
lines : 

"Sweet Vale of Avoca, how calm could I rest, 

In thy bosom of shade, with friends I love best; 

Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should 

cease. 
And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace." 

Although the scenery through Wicklow was grand, 
I felt relieved as we quitted our lofty altitude, and sailed 
nearer the earth over the more prosaic County of Wex- 
ford. As Mike lowered the aeroplane within about 
lOO feet of the land I breathed easier. 

Wexford was the home of Dermot McMurragh, 
who first invited the English into Ireland. The ruins of 
his castle and his tomb are near Ferns, but Wexford is 
not particularly proud of McMurragh. 

Wexford has been called by an Irishman, ''the most 
agricultural county in Ireland," and we could well be- 
lieve it as we swept over its green pastures and cultivated 
farms. 

We sighted the city of Wexford at 4:00 o'clock. A.s 
we circled around over the city, I observed its excellent 
harbor, with a complete breakwater, and also its spacious 
docks. The city looks like a city in Palestine on account 
of its narrow streets, but it is a clean, prosperous look- 
ing place. 



120 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 



We alit, as usual outside the city, and left our aero- 
plane for the night in charge of a friendly farmer. We 
made our escape as quietly as possible from the gath- 
ering crowd, and soon found the quiet of a good hotel. 
The Redmond family, noted Irish leaders, reside in 
Wexford, and the spirit of the dislike to England is very 
pronounced. 

We saw two magnificent churches called the Twins, 
on account of their similarity. These show the religious 
zeal of the people. The business part of the town showed 
their commercial enterprise. 

The Quay is a busy place as steamship lines run to 
England, and there is much traffic in merchandise be- 
tween Wexford and England, but there is none in affec- 
tion. 

Before retiring for the night we met an interesting 
old Irishman, whose whole soul was controlled by hatred 
of Cromwell and England. He had none of Mr. O'Neill's 
charity for ancient wrongs, and, as he told us of Crom- 
well's Wexford campaign, we could sympathize with him 
a good deal. To show us how Ireland regarded Crom- 
well, he quoted from an Irish poet, a few lines, which 
ran something like this : 

"From Dro^heda that man of guilt 

To fated Wexford flew. 
The red blood reeking on his hilt 

Of hearts to Erin true. 

He found them there— the young, the old. 

The maiden and the wife; 
Their guardians brave in death were cold. 

Who dared for them in strife. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND \2\ 



They prayed for mercy, God on hi^h 

Before Thy Cross they prayed, 
And ruthless Cromwell bade them die 

To glut the Saxon blade." 

After a while we turned the old patriot's attention 
to America, and we found he had a deep interest in the 
New World. ''It's God's country over there," he told 
us. We found he had friends in America, and he gave 
us a ludicrous verse in which some Irishman had de- 
scribed the American character. 

"He'd kiss a Queen till he'd raise a blister. 

With his arms round her neck, and old felt hat on 

And address a King by the name of Mister, 

And ask him the price of the throne he sat on." 

Mike and I assured him that the Irish poet was too 
severe on the Yankee. 

"Tell us a good Irish story," I said, before we 
separated. 

"I will that," he said, and he told us this one. 

An excited orator during the American Civil War, 
exclaimed : 

"We have taken Atlanta : we have taken Savannah, 
Columbus, Charleston, and now at last, have captured 
Petersburg, and occupy Richmond: and what remains 
for us to take?" 

An Irishman in the crowd shouted: "Let's take a 
drink." 

As he closed the story our genial friend pointed to- 
wards the bar of the hotel in a significant way, and we 



122 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 



saw the direction of his joke. We decHned pohtely to 
show our friendship in this way, but we bade him good- 
night with a warm handshake and best wishes for the 
good of Ireland. 




CHAPTER XVIII 

BACK AGAIN TO CORK 
7^^^^^=^^ E left Wexford the next morning in a misty 

"I am glad I put a rain-coat on my aero- 
plane," said Mike as the rain came down in 
a regular pour. 

We did not enjoy that morning's sail from Wexford 
to Waterford. In an hour's time we saw Waterford arise 
out of the mist. Like Wexford, Waterford is an import- 
ant seaport, built on the banks of the Suir river. The 
name of this beautiful river is a vile slander. Much agri- 
cultural produce, and bacon and live stock are shipped 
from here to England. 

The city was able to defend itself against Cromwell 
in 1649, ^"<^l ^^^^^ the only place in Ireland that did not 
fall before the terrible charge of Cromwell's Ironsides. 

I was able to see, though indistinctly, the Cathedral, 
where Strongbow, Ireland's first English master, lies 
buried. This arch-enemy of Ireland is surely well buried 
as he has also a tomb in Dublin. Strongbow married the 
daughter of Dermot McMurragh on the battle field near 
Waterford where he defeated the Irish. 

Lord Roberts has a home in Waterford, and it was 
here he grew up and developed those fighting qualities 
which have made him England's foremost soldier today. 



124 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

Water ford was founded by the Danes in the ninth 
century. The antique iron bridge across the river, and 
the docks, a mile long, are notable features of the mod- 
ern city. 

There is one interesting relic of the Danish period 
still standing near the docks. It is a large round tower, 
about 50 feet high, which was built by Reginald, the 
Dane, in 1003. At present it is a police cell. 

We left Water ford with the rain still falling, and 
went up along the banks of the Suir to Portlaw, a small 
manufacturing town. Near here we flew over Curragh- 
more, the stately mansion of the Marquis of Water ford. 
The desmense covers 5000 acres, and is a beautiful nat- 
ural park, with many slopes, and dells. There is an 
ancient castle beside the modern mansion. 

In this part of Ireland Sir Walter Raleigh and Ed- 
mund Spencer lived. We soon saw Youghal, on the 
coast, where Raleigh lived, and where his old house still 
stands. 

Edmund Spencer was a close friend of Raleigh's. 
He was an English poet but became associated with Ire- 
land because he wrote the 'Tairy Queen in the Emerald 
Isle" in 1589 and 1590. He would be more popular in 
Ireland today only, unfortunately, the Maiden Queen 
Elizabeth gave him a present of some 3028 acres of Irish 
land. The Queen's title to this piece of real estate was 
not considered very good by the Irish, and they have 
never forgiven Spencer for accepting it. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 125 

Sir Walter Raleigh also accepted a big farm of o\'er 
40,000 acres in Ireland from this same Maiden Queen, 
whose real estate transactions in Ireland were consider- 
able, but Raleigh has been partly forgiven because he 
gave Ireland the potato. 

It was nearly nine when we whizzed over Youghal, 
and circled around it twice. We dipped, as we flew 
over the harbor, until we were within thirty feet of the 
water, and aroused excited cheering from the crowd 
watching us on the docks, as we turned and rose high 
again over the city. 

I discovered Myrtle Lodge, Raleigh's old home in 
Youghal. It was ivy clad, and well preserved, and the 
grounds around it neatly kept. I was delighted to see 
the garden of Myrtle Lodge. It is almost as sacred to 
the Irishman as the Garden of Eden. In this garden in 
1586 Sir Walter Raleigh planted the first potato ever 
grown in the Emerald Isle. He brought the seed from 
the West Indies, where they had been carried by the 
Spanish from Peru, the potato's native home. 

It was a century after this before the sterling quali- 
ties of the potato were appreciated fully, but now that 
useful tul)er is adopted as Ireland's own darling veget- 
able. 

Sir Walter Raleigh was quite a gardener, as well 
as having a reputation as a soldier, an author, a courtier, 
an explorer, a statesman, and a lover. In some respects 
he was the Theodore Roosevelt of his age. Doubtless 



126 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

he inherited his genius for gardening from his first par- 
ent, Adam. He brought the seed of the cheery from the 
Azores, and planted the first cherry tree in this famous 
garden, as it is said all the cherries in the United King- 
dom can trace their descent back to Youghal. 

We were now only thirty miles from Cork. As we 
left Youghal, and the landing place of the potato in Ire- 
land, the heavy clouds suddenly made up their minds 
to decamp. They at once scattered in all directions, and 
in fifteen minutes the sun was shining just as though it 
had been with us all morning. Then it was that it 
occurred to us that the sudden changes of Irish weather 
were not always a disadvantage. If it rains easy, it also 
clears away easy. 

I was glad to see the fields of Cork again. We fol- 
lowed the railroad line most of the way from Youghal 
to Cork. We met a train again on this road, and had 
another noisy greeting from the engine and passenger 
coaches. 

As we neared Cork, and saw the magnificent Cork 
Harbor, stretching down to Queenstown, I turned to 
Mike and said : 

"Mike, Ireland is a great country, and you and I 
have seen it the last few days as nobody has ever seen it 
before. The aeroplane will give to Ireland a new fame 
throughout the world." 

''We have had a big time," said Mike simply, but 
I knew he was the happiest man on earth, or rather in 
the air. 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 127 

As we were circling around preparatory to making 
a landing, I repeated enthusiastically the words of an 
Irish poet : 

"O Ireland, isn't it grand you look : 

Like a bride in her rich adornin*. 
And with all the pent-up love of my heart, 

I bid you the top o' the mornin'." 

We landed at io:oo o'clock on the very field we had 
left only a few days before. 

If Columbus, when he set foot on America, felt any 
bigger than we did as we stepped out of our aeroplane at 
Cork that day, he must have felt bigger than Goliath. 




CHAPTER XIX 

OUR LAST DAY IN IRELAND SEEING TIPPERARY 

E spent the rest of that day around Cork. 
Going to the steamship office we found our 
hner would call at Queenstown on the second 
day. We had one more day for sightseeing. 
"Mike," said I, "let us start early tomorrow morn- 
ing, and spend our last day seeing Tipperary." 
"Agreed," said he. 

He carefully overhauled the motor, and we had all 
in readiness for a second flight from Cork the next 
morning. 

We flew direct toward County Tipperary. Our 
first place of interest was Cashel, the former Capital of 
Munster. 

As we entered Tipperary and skimmed over its 
green acres, I entertained Mike by quoting to him a de- 
scription of a Tipperary man: 

"Strong is his form, his heart is warm, 

His spirit light as any fairy: 
His wrath as fearful as the storms 

That sweep the hills of Tipperary. 

Lead him to fight for Fatherland, 

His is no courage cold or wary ; 
The troops live not on earth could stand 

The headlong charge of Tipperary. 

But meet him in his cabin rude, 

Or walking with his dark-haired Mary, 

You'd swear they knew no other mood, 
But mirth and love in Tipperary." 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 129 

When I had finished, Mike returned me the favor hy 
singing, with the motor as an accompaniment, a famous 
Tipperary song: The words of it are: 

'Oh, Paddy, dear, and did you hear the news that's going 

round ? 
The shamrock is by law forbid to grow on Irish ground; 
No more St. Patrick's Day we'll keep, his color can't be seen. 
For there's a bloody law agin the wearin' o' the green. 
I met with Napper Tandy, and he tuk me by the hand. 
And he said, 'And how's ould Ireland and how does she stand?' 
She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen. 
For they're hangin' men and women for the wearin' o'the green." 

When he had finished I said : 

"Mike, an Irishman coukl not sing that any better 
than you." 

*''An Irishwoman could, though," said Mike, and 
then he continued, "You ought to have heard Edith sing 
that very song as we were flying over DubHn. I thought 
I w^as in heaven, and was hearing the angels sing." 

"When you landed after that trip you both looked 
as though you had been in the seventh heaven," I an- 
swered. 

Just then we sighted the rock of Cashel, and our 
thoughts were turned into other channels. Cashel, like 
Tara, is only a memory. Formerly it was a place of the 
greatest importance all over the south of Ireland. Now 
it is an unimportant village. The famous rock of Cashel 
still stands, crowned with the ruins of the old Cathedral, 
King Cormac's Chapel, and a Round Tower. This cele- 
brated rock is a mass of limestone, rising steeply out of 



130 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

the plain to the height of 300 feet. Here formerly the 
Kings of Munster were crowned, and here, in 1172, Hen- 
ry n. was declared King of Ireland. St. Patrick preached 
at Cashel when it was a Royal Court. 

We circled the Rock twice to the utter amazement 
of the inhabitants of the village. T doubt if we made 
more stir anywhere than in Cashel. 

Passing on towards Thurles, we saw one of the 
finest monastic ruins in Ireland, Holy Cross Abbey. The 
ruins are of great antiquity, but are well preserved, and 
they are quite extensive. The Cruciform church is still 
extant enough to show lines of great beauty. This was 
a former Sanctuary of the O'Briens of Limerick. 

From Thurles we went directly west to Limerick. 

Limerick is one of Ireland's oldest cities, and it 
looks it. It is built on the Shannon river, and Limerick 
Castle still frowns over that noble stream. This old 
castle is well preserved. 

Limerick, like so many of the towns around the 
coast of Ireland, was founded by tlie Danes. It has been 
the scene of some stirring Irish history. Two famous 
sieges were endured by this city in the 1 7th century. 

In 1 65 1, the English besieged and captured Limer- 
ick under General Ireton. On capturing the city, Ireton 
hung Bishop O'Brien, an outrage deeply resented by the 
Irish people. 

In 1690 the forces of William II. invested Limerick, 
after the victory at the Boyne, and the garrison was 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 131 

compelled to capitulate. The treaty of capitulation was 
signed on a large stone, since called the "Treaty Stone/' 
This Treaty afterwards was shamefully violated by 
the English Government, and to this day Limerick is 
known in Ireland as "The City of the Violated Treaty." 
As we flew over the city I saw this famous stone, on a 
pedestal, near Thomond Bridge. I also saw the ancient 
Cathedral which adorns the city. The present popula- 
tion of Limerick is only 40,000 as the city has lost heav- 
ily in recent years by emigration to America. The chief 
business at present is butter-making, but lace and linen 
are also produced. There are fine docks and a good ex- 
port business, as the Shannon is easily navigable at 
Limerick. 

There was one other spot in L'eland we wished to 
see. We could not finish up our aeroplane trip without 
flying over Glengarifl:*, which has been called the loveliest 
spot in all Europe. We made a rapid return flight from 
Limerick to County Cork. We sped past the Kerry 
Mountains, beyond which lay Killarney, but we did not 
attempt to cross them. It was still early in the forenoon 
when we reached Bantry Bay. 

Glengarifif means "Rugged Glen" and the scenery 
is rugged enough in places but it is undoubtedly one of 
the finest scenes in the world. A mountain stream runs 
through the lovely valley, which is crossed by many 
picturesque bridges, before it empties itself into the 
waters of Bantry Bay. Thackery said if Glengariff were 
in England, it would be one of the world's wonders. 



132 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

The climate is remarkably mild all the year and the wild 
flowers grow in profusion. We passed directly over 
the little village of GlengarifT, and saw Cromwell's 
Bridge. This is a bridge said to have been damaged, as 
so much else was during Cromwell's visit in the neigh- 
borhood. 

Our minds, our hearts, our souls were full of the 
beautiful scenes of the Emerald Isle, when we turned to- 
wards Cork for our final flight. 

Before we reached the more level land, beyond the 
hills of Bantry Bay, we had one of our worst experiences 
with the aeroplane. While crossing a very broken, and 
hilly stretch of country, covered with stone fences, small 
cabins, and mountain garden patches, without any warn- 
ing, the motor again stopped suddenly. 

I cried out to Mike to land at once. He was com- 
pelled to alight, for, when the motor is dead, an aero- 
plane is like a bird with two broken wings. With the 
rocky ground, stone fences, and little garden-patches, it 
was the most difficult descent Mike had to make. He 
saved the aeroplane from a smash-up only by lighting 
squarely on the roof of one of the little thatched cabins. 
As we landed on it, a man, his wife and several children 
rushed out and gazed at us in silent wonder. We climbed 
down as best we could, and explained our plight. While 
the man went away to get some of his neighbors to 
assist us in getting the aeroplane down on the ground, 
I looked the cabin over. It was not a beautiful sight 
when seen close at hand. A vile-smelling manure pile 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 133 

was heaped in front of the door, and the rude stone walls 
were most unsightly. The thatch looked as ancient as 
some of the old ruins we had lately seen. The cabin had 
only one room. Chickens ran in and out along with the 
children, and as I entered inside, I saw ''the pig in the 
parlor," for the one room was the kitchen, dining room, 
parlor and bed-room combined. Part of the cooking was 
done outside during fair weather, and a pot of potatoes 
were boiling over a peat fire beside the cottage. There 
was a baby in the mother's arms, and I counted six other 
children around her. Pallets of straw showed where the 
nightly rest was obtained. The floor was nothing but 
hard mother earth. A table, two rough chairs, and a 
stool, with a rough cupboard completed the furnishings. 
A few pots lay near the peat fire under the hole, which 
was meant for a chimney. There was no window. The 
one door furnished all the light and air. 

I found out afterwards that such cabins were occu- 
pied only by a comparatively few, even of the poor in 
Ireland. The Government is at present working among 
these poor peasants, and in a few years it is expected 
such hovels will be banished forever from the island. 
This was a "bog-trotter" cabin, such as is only found in 
the hilly and desolate regions, where birds, to say nothing 
of men, find it hard to get a living. 

The woman was cordial and self-possessed, and did 
not seeem to mind the squalid surroundings. She offered 
us some of the cooked potatoes, and as we ate them out 



134 THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 

side the cabin, taking them in our hands, they tasted as 
good as though they had been cooked in a palace. 

A few neighbors soon gathered and helped us get 
the aeroplane down from the low roof. 

While Mike was getting ready to start again. I 
talked with the owner of the cabin. He seemed cheerful 
and pointed out to me his potato patch, his "food and 
drink." 

He told me about the mountains that could be seen 
from his cabin, and named several of the more import- 
ant hills. I noticed that a number of the names had the 
''devil" in them. One peak he called the "devil's 
Needle." Another hill, with a hollow place in its side 
was the "devil's Bit." I thought I would see if there was 
any Irish in him, and I said : 

"His Satanic Majesty seems to own a great deal of 
property among these hills, judging by their names." 

"Indade he does, sor," said this son of Erin, "but he 
is like most of our landlords, he makes his headcjuarters 
in London, sor." 

I saw it w^as no difference where you find him, in 
palace, mansion, villa, cottage, cabin or even hovel, an 
Irishman is always the same. Everywhere you will find 
him genial, witty, good-natured. It must be the effect 
of the Irish atmosphere. 

When Mike had the motor going again we soon 
made our ascent aloft, leaving our Irish cabiners watch- 

We reached Cork again shortly after noon. After 



THE TRUTH ABOUT IRELAND 135 

a brief rest, we spent the rest of the day in taking the air- 
ship to pieces, and re-packing it. 

Next morning we were ready for our ocean voyage 
and took the early train from Cork to Queenstown. 
Five days later we reached New York. We had been 
absent considerably less than a month. 

Mike has since returned to Ireland. He did not take 
the aeroplane, but he took along a big trunk. When he 
returns, as he will in a few weeks, the Connor house in 
New York State, will have a beautiful young Irish girl 
as its queen, and my good friend, Mr. O'Neill will come 
out to America next year to see his daughter, Mrs. Mich- 
ael Connor. Such was the strange ending of our aero- 
plane trip. As I think of it, I often say to myself : "It 
was the result of the Irish atmosphere." 



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